Curing Cancer
by sinemoras09
Summary: Doofus Rick visits. Gen. Spoilers for seasons 1-3. Complete.
1. Curing Cancer

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"W-w-why you gotta waste your time with this guy, Morty? Didn't you know, he wasted his time curing cancer?"

Morty looks up and glares as Rick pokes fun at Doofus Rick, who's visiting and looking at his Dad's coin collection.

"You cured cancer?" Morty asks Doofus Rick (and he winces when he thinks that name to himself. It's not "Doofus Rick." It's Rick J-19-Zeta-7.)

"Yeah, Morty! I sure did!" Doofus Rick flashes him a proud grin. "But only in my universe, Morty. The others wouldn't use it."

"Of course we didn't use it! Of all the dipshit things we could waste our vast intelligence on! I mean, c'mon, _cancer_? That's the most fucking cliché thing in the book! How about you go and cure space AIDS, too?"

"W-well, you know, Rick, I actually discovered the cure for cancer when I was researching HIV..."

"Jesus. You're like a fucking boy scout," Rick says, while Jerry opens the door.

"Rick, what do you think of my collection?" Jerry says. He opens his box.

"Nobody gives a shit about your collection," Rick says. Doofus Rick smiles at him.

"Ya wanna know why that dipshit there doesn't have a Morty, Morty? Because he was too fucking stupid to get laid!"

Rick is lounging on the couch, arms crossed and watching while Doofus Rick fiddles hesitantly with Jerry's box of coins.

"That's not true, Rick, i-i-it had nothing to do with my intelligence. I just was too shy to talk to others, and-"

"Nobody gives a shit, dipshit, why don't you go eat a turd or something?" Rick says, and Doofus Rick blanches. Jerry squares his shoulders.

"Rick, under my house, you need to be nice," Jerry says. "Doofus Rick is my friend."

"'Doofus Rick?'" Doofus Rick echoes, crestfallen, while C-137 Rick fistpumps, "Ha ha!"

"S-sorry, Rick J-19. It's just my Rick here keeps calling you that," Jerry winces. "I'm afraid that name's kinda stuck."

"That's because idiots latch onto things they learn through repetition," Rick says.

"So, you didn't get killed when Grandpa teleported the Citadel?" Summer asks. Doofus Rick shakes his head.

"I was really lucky! I took cover in a cooling vent! The survivors and I were able to teleport the Citadel back."

"Pfft." Rick rolls his eyes. "I'm gonna take a shit," and he walks out of the kitchen.

"Gosh, I-I hope I'm not imposing," Doofus Rick says. Jerry shakes his head.

"Don't you worry about that, Rick J-19. Rick C-137 is just an ass."

"Hi Dad. J-19-Zeta-7 Dad. Do you want to stay for dinner?" Beth walks around the corner.

Rick bristles. "Don't tell me this moron's got you under his spell too."

"We've got pork chops," Beth says, and Doofus Rick claps his hands.

"R-really? I love pork chops!"

"Oh man. He really gets under your skin, huh Rick?" Morty says, and Rick snorts derisively.

"If he mattered enough to get under my skin. I-i-it's like seeing a bunch of ants in your kitchen, Morty. A bunch of ants lining up in your filthy, goddamn kitchen. And all you wanna do is kill 'em, Morty. Because they're marching around where they don't belong."

"Aw, Beth! You're so nice! Rick C-137 is really lucky to have a daughter like you!"

"Aww," Beth says, and Doofus Rick sparkles. The other Rick smacks his head.

xXx

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"What, you're leaving?" Rick says, as Doofus Rick walks out into the driveway, the moon shining over them like a fat earbob. "It wasn't enough to play house with my family? You gonna go jerk off now, too?"

"Rick. I don't know your life. And I can't say I understand your emotions," Doofus Rick says. He zaps a hole with his portal gun, the green light swirling lightly. "But y-y-you're really lucky to have such a great family. And you have a great son-in-law with your Jerry."

"Jerry's an idiot," Rick says. "They're all idiots. Across the vast expanse of the infinite universe. All of them are fucking idiots."

"I'll see you later, Rick," Doofus Rick says. He steps into the portal.

"Fuckin' loser," Rick says, as the portal swirls closed.


	2. Poppin' Cherries

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"W-w-wait a minute, hold up. You're a fucking virgin?!"

Rick stares dumbfounded as Doofus Rick smiles stupidly and rubs his head.

"Jesus Christ!" Rick says. "Are you fucking kidding me?! You're seventy! And you mean to tell me in all that time, you never once got fucking laid?!"

"Gosh Rick, I-I-I didn't think you'd be interested in my love life," Doofus Rick says. Rick stands.

"You mean lack of love life! Goddammit! You make me ashamed of being me." Rick zaps his portal gun.

Doofus Rick stands. "W-w-where we going, C-137?"

Rick turns, standing in front of the green portal.

"You're lucky I feel sorry for you," Rick says. "C'mon."

xXx

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"Yo Ebony. This is J-19. He's hella dumb, but he's another version of me."

The alien woman leans over them, her tentacles waving slightly.

"Aww, he's a cutie!" the alien says. Rick throws back a drink.

Doofus Rick fidgets. "Gee, Rick. This is really nice of you. But I-I-I don't want to sleep with a prostitute."

"Escort," Rick says, and he holds up his drink. "Don't knock it 'til you try it. And Ebony here's a pro. She'll pop your Jerry Cherry in no time."

"'Jerry Cherry'?" Doofus Rick says.

Rick takes another drink. "Geriatric Virginity," Rick says. "You fucking waste of space. Go get laid already!"

"C'mon, sweetheart. Ebony will take care of you," the alien says, and she touches Doofus Rick on the arm.

Doofus Rick laughs nervously. "That's really nice of you, E-E-E-Ebony! But I'm not ashamed of my virginity."

"Oh what? You'd rather whack it in that dumpster you call a lab? Jesus Christ, just fuck her already!" Rick says.

The alien smiles at them. "I only sleep with them if my clients consent," she says.

"You gonna give me my money back?" Rick says. The alien sashays away. "Fuck!" He turns to Doofus Rick. "What are you lookin' at, dipshit?"

"S-sorry, Rick."

"How 'bout you suck my dick."

xXx

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They teleport back to Doofus Rick's home world. Rick looks around at Doofus Rick's lab - not in a garage, like the other Ricks', but in a basement of a medium-sized home.

"This your space?" Rick peers into a few cabinets. "Not bad. But what the fuck is with this labeling? You really that stupid you can't keep track of your experiments?"

"Oh, that! Y-yeah. I-I-I get confused where things go sometimes, I like to be organized." Doofus Rick smiles stupidly.

Rick flips through a notebook. "A machine that reverses climate change? A vacuum that sucks air pollution?" He closes the notebook. "Oh man. You really are a fucking boy scout. And let me guess, you don't own any of the patents."

"W-w-well you know, Rick, it's best to be open for more innovation-"

"The fuck is wrong with you?! You could make money from this!"

Doofus Rick demurs, "Actually, I pay my, my living expenses using different grants," and Rick stares at him like he has two heads.

"Hey, J-19. Lemme ask you something." Rick studies a few books, picking up a beaker. "You could make a sex robot. I mean, you're dumb as bricks, but even you could come up with artificial intelligence! How come you haven't programmed yourself a woman?" and Doofus Rick lowers his head.

"I guess I-I want to be with a real woman, you know? Someone who loves me for me."

"Pfft." Rick sets the beaker back down.

"Love is for pussies," Rick says. "Believe me. It's just pretty lies and inconveniences and irrational attachments."

"If that's the case, R-R-Rick, then why do you wanna get me laid?"

"I dunno. Maybe because I feel sorry for you. Or maybe because you seem lonely. Or maybe because I'm bored, and can't stand the fact that there's some version of me out there who's still clinging to his virginity," Rick says, and Doofus Rick nods solemnly.

"I'm not clinging, Rick, I-I don't really mind it. But I suppose I do get lonely," Doofus Rick says.

"That why you go hanging out in the Citadel? Being a punching bag for the other Ricks like a goddamn pussy?"

"M-m-maybe," Doofus Rick says, and he smiles. "But now I can go hang out with you and your Jerry!"

"Fuck me," Rick says, and he shoots his portal gun.

xXx

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"Grandpa Rick, what are you doing with Grandpa J-19?" Summer says.

"I'm fixing this fucker's lazy eye, what does it look like I'm doing?" Rick says. Behind him, Doofus Rick grins.


	3. Eyesight

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"The fuck is wrong with your eyes, anyway?" Rick asks. Doofus Rick shrugs.

"I-it's intermittent exotropia. I-I-I can unify my gaze if I concentrate, but my left eye drifts outward if I get tired or I'm not paying attention. Sometimes I-I get headaches or double vision but usually I manage just fine"

"Christ, don't they have surgery for that?" Rick says. Doofus Rick raises his hands.

"I-I opted not to get it. There's a chance there'd be a recurrence," Doofus Rick says. Rick frowns.

"Well how about if I operate on you?" Rick says.

"R-really?" Doofus Rick says.

"Yeah," Rick says. "Fuck, just lemme look at some textbooks, Jesus. Just looking at you is giving me a fucking headache."


	4. Citadel

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He had been cleaning toilets when Terrorist Rick, Rick C-137, had teleported the Citadel into Federation territory.

All Ricks have varying levels of agreeableness. The Rickest Ricks had the least, while Working Stiff Ricks had more. J-19-Zeta-7 Rick had the most, and even though his IQ was the same and he didn't like cleaning toilets, when the other Ricks laughed at him and yelled at him to go work in the latrines, J-19 just picked up his scrub brush; he didn't argue with them.

He was on his hands and knees, wearing thick rubber gloves and wiping down the porcelain seats, when the lights turned red and the alarms began blaring.

_Emergency. We are now entering Federation Territory. Emergency. We are now-_

"Oh shit!" said a Rick. Ricks were yelling outside the bathroom. J-19 gasped and kept hiding in the stall.

Just as all Ricks had different levels of agreeableness, Ricks had different levels of fighting ability, and J-19, again, had some of the least fighting ability. He was marginally better than Hammerhead Rick, or maybe Shrimp Dick Rick (Rick Y-18-beta-9, actually, but one of the Ricks pantsed him and found out there was a Rick on the Central Finite Curve whose penis was decidedly smaller than average), but J-19 was smart enough to know his chances of survival were better if he went into hiding.

He hid. When the coast was clear, he sprinted out, motioning toward Shrimp Dick Rick and Lizard Man Rick to follow him to the control room, he'd seen the buttons before, he knew how to teleport them out of there.

_Zap._ All it took was buttons and dials.

It was like a perverse game of natural selection. Fighting Ricks were either gravely wounded or mostly killed; Working Stiff Ricks emerged, coming out from manholes once the remaining Federation soldiers were killed.

But the Citadel was equipped with a large scale version of Operation Phoenix, and the Fighting Soldier Ricks were put back in order.

"Oh my god," Summer says, and Morty nods, impressed. J-19 smiles over his iced tea while Beth comes over to join them. "So you singlehandedly teleported them back from the Federation?"

"Aw, Summer. I-i-it wasn't much. Any Rick could've done it. But I-I-I was the one cleaning the toilets. I was the closet one who could do it."

"Do they still make you clean toilets?" Rick says. He doesn't seem impressed.

Doofus Rick nods.


	5. Citadel part 2

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"So who lives in the Citadel?" Summer draws her knees to her chest, sitting on the couch. Doofus Rick considers.

"Oh geez, Summer! Lots of Ricks do!" Doofus Rick leans forward. "Usually, it's Ricks who destroy their universes. Like, w-when an experiment goes awry, or when an enemy finds them. Sometimes they can find a universe they can slip into. But you can do that only so many times." Doofus Rick counts on his fingers. "Your Rick has already done that a couple of times already, and-"

"Hey dipshit," Rick says. He snaps his fingers. "Enough with the secret spilling already."

"W-w-well, I was just going to tell them about the Cronenberg Universe, and the squirrels, and-"

"Hey, what did I say?" Rick says. Summer raises her hand.

"What about Mortys?" Summer asks. Doofus Rick shakes his head.

"Oh, it's really sad! There's a lot of Rickless Mortys!" Doofus Rick says. "Those are the Mortys whose Ricks w-w-w-were killed by Robot Rick - I mean, he wasn't actually a robot, we just call him that - he was being controlled by someone. There were wires in his cortex, but we never found the transmitter."

"They don't do Operation Phoenix for Mortys, too?" Summer asks.

"What do you think?" Rick says, while Doofus Rick shakes his head, No.


	6. Citadel, part 3

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"Wow. So this is the Citadel?" Beth cranes her neck, looking upward.

"That's right, Beth!" Doofus Rick says. "Here's the place to meet all the Ricks!"

"So how come there's versions of Dad working construction? And how come there's Dads reading the news?" Beth looks at the newscasters on the monitors hovering above the city.

"Oh! That's because, on the Central Finite Curve, there's infinite versions of us! So there's versions of us that don't become scientists - we may have the same aptitudes and intelligence, and even the same personalities and IQs! But instead of becoming scientists, we become construction workers or newscasters! And those Ricks never develop portal guns or learn how to travel different worlds! So the Citadel offers to bring them here!"

"Working Stiff Ricks," Rick sniffs. Morty glances back behind him.

"Hey Rick. Y-you didn't have to come with us if you didn't want to," Morty says.

"And what? Leave you guys to Mr. Moron over here? Someone's gotta babysit you in case this thing goes sideways."

"Your Grandpa is just worried because he loves you," Doofus Rick says, and Rick rolls his eyes. "But the Citadel is very safe! And did you know, our president is a Morty!"

"Really?" Morty says. His eyes get as wide as saucers. "All these Ricks voted for a Morty?"

Rick shrugs. "Goes to show you all these Ricks are a bunch of inferior Ricks."

"You should see where they keep the Jerrys," Jerry says, proudly.


	7. Workbench

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Nighttime. Rick flips on a light, leaning over a workbench in the garage, when a shadow falls over his work station.

"You still here?" Rick says. He keeps his eyes focused on the screws. Doofus Rick looks over.

"Havin' trouble?" Doofus Rick asks. He looks over. "You know, i-i-if you increase the polarity by 3%, it might make the axis go smoother."

"Pffft. Yeah, okay. As if I need you to check my math, dipshit. I already know about the polarity." Rick sets the gauge.

"Hey, whaddaya know? It works!" Doofus Rick says. Rick snorts derisively.

"Of course it works, what are you, an idiot? The fuck are you smiling at, anyway? Y-y-y-you want a medal or something? Fuckin' moron. Why don't you go and bother Jerry."


	8. Eric Stoltz Mask Morty

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They took away his Morty after the Federation collapsed.

"I don't even get why we gave him one," one of the Militia Ricks said, while Doofus Rick was on his hands and knees, begging their superiors to _please_ let him keep his Morty, Eric Stoltz Mask Morty was his only family! "It's not like the Federation was lookin' for him. Why'd we have to camouflage his brain waves in the first place?"

"Eh," the other Militia Rick said. "Probably 'cuz this idiot's so stupid he'd actually agree to help the Federation."

"Morty," Doofus Rick said tearfully, and he and his Morty hugged. "I'm gonna miss you, Morty!"

"Don't worry, Grandpa Rick! You'll always be my Grandpa to me!"

"No he won't," a Militia Rick said, and he zapped open a portal.

Doofus Rick didn't know what happened to Eric Stoltz Mask Morty. Like all Mortys who were reassigned, they often didn't know their universe designation, and so were practically impossible to track. Other than the colloquial names their Ricks gave them - Fat Morty or Stupid Morty or The Other Morty - once a Morty was gone, he was gone.

xXx

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He puttered around his lab. Long ago, he had the option to stay and teach students, but he felt he could do more good if he could be out in the world working on his inventions. That life was lonely, he found, and more and more he found himself between warring governments and jaded factions, a bunch of people who just wanted to use him.

He wouldn't let them weaponize his work. He made them all open source, gave his ideas out for free.

He didn't mind talking to the other Ricks. It was better than feeling lonely.

"Yo Dipshit. Yooo_uuurp_ need to come help us clean the latrines."

"Oh man. Can't you ask one of the custodian Ricks to do that?" Doofus Rick put down his screwdriver on his work bench. The Citadel Ricks glanced at each other.

"You seriously gonna say 'No'?"

xXx

.

It was only by chance that J-19 saw him again.

He was walking around the Citadel when he saw the parade: a whole throng of Mortys, marching and cheering. There was a big Morty balloon and a big Morty float, and among the sea of Mortys J-19 could see one Morty standing almost a head taller than them, one Morty with scraggly hair and leonine face, the telltale signs of craniodiaphysial dysplasia clear as day.

"Eric Stoltz Mask Morty!" J-19 yelled, and he waved his hand. "Over here!"

Eric Stoltz Mask Morty's face lit up. He broke away from the parade and ran over.

"Rick!" he said, and he threw his arms around him.

"Morty! Oh, Morty! Where did they take you, buddy?"

"They reassigned me to another Rick! A Hunchback of Notre Dame Rick." Eric Stoltz Mask Morty sniffed tearfully. "Grandpa Rick. He's so mean to me!"

"Oh, don't you worry about that, Morty, I-I-I'll go talk to him, Morty. Do you know his designation?"

"Hey Morty!" one of the Mortys said. "You're missing the parade!"

"I gotta get back," Eric Stoltz Mask Morty said. He took out a pen and wrote down his email. "Bye, Grandpa Rick."

"Take care of yourself, Morty."

And Eric Stoltz Mask Morty didn't quite disappear back into the crowd.

xXx

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"So that's it? _That's_ why you're bothering us? Because they took away your fuckin' Morty?"

Doofus Rick nods. Rick slaps his forehead.

"Jesus Christ!" Rick says. "You're a Rick! A shitty Rick, but still a Rick! If you want him back, just go get him!"

"But the Citadel's reorganized now, and Mortys aren't even assigned to Ricks anymore, and-"

"Oh la di da, like I give a shit." Rick slowly claps his hands.

"I just want to give Morty his own space, y-y-you know? Give him a chance to be his own person. He's never had a chance to do that before." Doofus Rick smiles down at his cup of coffee.

"Oh Christ," Rick says, and he rolls his eyes.

"He still emails," Doofus Rick says. "And he calls me on w-w-w-weekends and holidays."

"Oh wow, just like every other college kid in America, good job, J-19. Real close, there. Does he remember to send you birthday cards, too?"

"Eric Stoltz Mask Morty isn't in college, C-137."

"I was being sarcastic, dipshit. Are you too stupid for sarcasm, too?"


	9. Drunk

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"Yo J-19, you ever get shit-faced?" Rick holds out a flask.

Doofus Rick shakes his head. "I-I probably shouldn't," Doofus Rick says.

"What? Are you serious? W-w-w-what am I saying? You're the fucking loser version of me, of course you're serious-"

"I think you're drunk," Doofus Rick says, and Rick belches. Doofus Rick discreetly wipes off a fleck of spit that landed on his face.

"Aw geez," Morty says, coming into the garage. "Is Rick drunk again?"

"I think so, Morty," Doofus Rick says, and Morty sighs. They both grab Rick by the armpits, hoisting him to his feet.

xXx

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"Yo Morty. Don't be like J-19."

Morty grunts, dragging him. "How's that, Rick?"

"'Cuz that guy is such a loser, Morty. H-he has no friends, he has to hang out with other...other versions of me. And I feel sorry for him, Morty," Rick says, and Morty dumps him into bed. "You know. They treat him like shit, Morty. Like a real...piece of shit. And he's a Rick, Morty." Rick starts to mumble. "It's so goddamn...embarrassing knowing there's a Rick like him."

A pause.

"H-hey Morty. Morty."

Morty was about to leave. He sighs, exasperated. "Yes, Rick?"

"Y-y-you gotta help me help that guy lose his virginity, Morty."

"Ummm..."

"It's a fucking disgrace, Morty. W-w-w-we gotta help him get his dick wet, Morty. That guy's gone seventy y-years without getting himself some, some alien trim-"

"Rick-"

"It's for all Rick-kind, Morty. Promise me, Morty."

"Ugh, fine. Whatever Rick."

"He doesn't even have a Morty, Morty! He had an Eric Stoltz Mask Morty."

"Goodnight, Rick."


	10. Jerry

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.

Morty's eating a bowl of cereal when he overhears his dad complaining to Rick again.

"I'm telling you, Rick, it's not fair, he was my Rick first!" Jerry follows Rick into the living room and into the garage, growing more and more agitated as Rick continues to ignore him. "You don't even like J-19-Zeta-7 Rick! All you did was make fun of him!"

"You're _urrrrp_, wrong, Jerry. I was taken prisoner by psycho Remote-Controlled Rick, those were a bunch of dipshit Militia Ricks, remember?"

"But the fact remains, you're only hanging out with him because it gets under my skin." Jerry's voice rises to a nasally wail.

"Dad," Morty says. Jerry walks past the table. "Dad, J-19 Rick likes you too, Dad."

"Yo HOOOOOLMES." Rick flips open his interdimensional phone. "J-19 whaddup bitch? Who wants go to to the Kratabulon System?"

"He's just doing it to get a rise out of you, Dad."

"No, Morty, see, you don't understand. Rick takes you on his adventures. Both your Ricks leave me home."

"J-19 isn't my Rick, Dad. He was your Rick first, remember?"

"Hey Jerry. H-h-h-h-how about you sit here and choke a dick while me and my buddy go kick it solar style, huh?" Rick takes a swig from his flask.

Morty turns. "He's doing it to be a dick, Dad."

Jerry sighs. "I know."


	11. Clones

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"Rick. Can I, can I ask you something?" Morty says.

Rick grunts. "What."

Morty presses his fingers together. "Remember when you got killed in that spaceship crash when we were harvesting death crystals?"

"You mean when I kept getting fucking downloaded into a bunch of fascist universes, Morty, because a certain little turd wouldn't use the DNA compiler?"

"Uh, y-yeah." Morty scratches his head. "So, I kind of understand, you know, how you can transfer your mind into another clone, and stuff. Like there's a cloud, right, a-a-a-an interdimensional cloud, that has all your memories and things, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So how...how does it work when, when you just have a tissue sample, you know? Like, remember when you were split into toxic and nontoxic selves, a-a-and when Toxic Rick sent that gagoo after Healthy Rick, Healthy Rick stuck that DNA gun into his neck and shot it into Toxic Rick...a-a-and then Toxic Rick did the same thing and then shot it into the gagoo?"

"What, you mean when we created fast-regenerating clones?"

"Y-yeah. I-I-I was just wondering, you know. Those clones weren't, weren't hooked up to the cloud. So how did you still have memories?"

Rick glances sideways at Morty, then trains his gaze back on the equipment on his workbench. "Morty, what the hell are you asking me."

"I'm asking you how they work."

Rick sighs loudly.

"They work because I'm a genius," Rick says. He leans over the workbench. "Now stop asking stupid questions, I'm trying to work."

xXx

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"Fast-regenerating clones?" Doofus Rick scratches his chin as Morty describes the process to him. "Oh, well that's easy, Morty! Our memories aren't stored in our brain! They're actually stored in our RNA."

"Wait, what?" Morty stares at Doofus Rick, who's smiling broadly.

"Y-yeah, Morty! I-it's actually really cool." Doofus Rick pulls out a sheet of paper, drawing Morty a diagram. "DNA is fixed and unchanging, right Morty? So, so most of an organism's adaptability comes from, from epigenetic mechanisms, Morty. Those are processes that, you know, regulate gene expression in response to environmental cues, a-a-and those processes are regulated by RNA."

"RNA?" Morty doesn't understand half of what Doofus Rick is saying, but Doofus Rick nods enthusiastically.

"Y-yeah, Morty, that's right! RNA!" Doofus Rick says. "Recall for a memory is in the synapses between neurons, but the actual storage of the memory is in the epigenetic changes in RNA! You see it in worms, Morty, a-a-and in simple organisms. In fact, if you train a worm to avoid certain noxious stimuli, a-a-and you inject their genetic material into another worm, that other worm behaves like it was trained, like the first worm!"

"So wait. All of Rick's memories are stored in that tissue sample?" Morty stares at the petri dish doubtfully.

"Oh for sure, Morty! But, i-i-it's not like you're bringing Rick back to life. Y-y-you're just creating a clone with his old memories. The first Rick has already died."

"Rick's already died?!" Morty is horrified.

"Oh, sure Morty! He's probably died a number of times." Doofus Rick smiles benignly.

xXx

.

"So, if the first you died, a-a-a-and the new you is just a clone with your memories, then, then you still died, right?"

"Morty what the fuck are you saying?" Rick says. Morty fidgets uncertainly.

"I-I mean, that time when you, when you went through the windshield...you actually, for real, actually _died_?" Morty's eyes widened. "I mean, I-I-I killed you, Rick! I-I-I killed you for real!"

"What? No. My consciousness is in my DNA, Morty. W-w-w-whatever that dipshit told you, it's not even half of what actually goes on. Are you, are you seriously gonna take the word of a Rick that eats his own poop over me?"

"Gee, Rick. This is, this is really complicated."

"Yeah no shit, Morty. That's because you're not a genius."

"Geez."


	12. Diane

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In all the infinite universes across the Central Finite Curve, all the Ricks have loved and lost a Diane.

J-19 doesn't know how C-137 lost his; most Ricks lose their Dianes in unspeakable ways, usually in accidents involving their own experiments. In more than half of them, their Dianes were already threatening to leave them; in others, their Dianes had already left, and died from cancer or car accidents. Some Dianes commit suicide. Other Dianes die in hospital beds, while their Ricks sit at the bedside, holding her hand.

J-19-Zeta-7 Rick never lost Diane. But then again, he never had her, either.

xXx

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No one in the C-137 household talks about their Diane.

(Though technically, it's not the C-137 household, it's a sub-dimension of C-137, one of the many universes C-137 hopped into. Just as Zeta-7 is a sub-dimension of J-19.)

The other J-19s, Ricks who existed in dimensions above his, evidently all had Dianes. All of them were married - happily, in fact, until the time of their Diane's inevitable death - and as you ascended up the dimensions, the buck teeth grew less pronounced and the lazy eyes eventually corrected, until finally you'd get to J-19-Prime who looked and acted like a Healthy Rick, with normal teeth and a not-too-bad bowl cut, who had a family and a Beth and a Morty and who treated his Jerry like another one of his kids.

The J-19s were docile Ricks. Friendly Ricks, Ricks who were boons to humanity.

"Wanna know what happened to 'em?" Rick C-137 takes a long, slow swig.

J-19-beta-1 got abducted by the Federation. J-19-gamma-25 got mixed up with a hostile group of aliens. Almost all the J-19s, in one way or another, were killed off in their universes, for being too friendly and too willing to help whoever came to them.

"See Morty, i-i-i-it's like, having a bunch of deer who are too stupid to be scared of people. Like, i-i-if you give a deer an apple, it'll think, 'hey, it's an apple, maybe I'll stick my stupid deer face over here and munch on it,' because _clearly_ this hunter with a gun is just a nice man with a bag of apples. So that's, that's what happened with the J-19s, Morty. They all got shot and killed, because they have no fucking instincts, Morty. No fucking sense of self-preservation. Just a bunch of stupid fucking deer, nodding yes to whatever yahoo asks it for help, even if it's from like, an invading army or a bunch of Gromflomites from the Galactic Federation."

"Geez," Morty breathes.

xXx

.

"J-19 Dad. Does my Mom exist in your dimension?"

Rick and J-19 Rick lower their screwdrivers. Doofus Rick opens his mouth, but Rick waves his hand, shushing him.

"Don't answer that," Rick says.

"Dad!"

"H-honey, it's not the same as your mother, she...she wouldn't even know who you are," Rick says, while Beth asks Doofus Rick, "Can we meet her?"

"N-no. You can't," Rick says, before Doofus Rick can answer.

"But Dad, Mom is dead in most of our universes. In this one she's actually alive. Don't you think it's a little unfair to keep me from talking to her?"

"She's not your mother," Rick says.

"But Dad-"

"No trust me, sweetie. J-19 is an idiot. H-h-he never should have told you this. His Diane probably doesn't even know he exists."

Beth blinks. The whites of her eyes grow shiny and wet, and the rims of her eyes start to darken.

"Fuck," Rick says. He shoots J-19 a look and walks up toward her.

"Oh man," Doofus Rick says. He puts his head in his hand. "I really screwed up again-"

"You're damn right you screwed it up again! You fucking idiot! You fucking hurt my daughter!"

"I-I-I'm sorry, Rick-"

"No, shut the fuck up, I can't even look at you." Rick puts an arm around Beth and leads her out of the garage.

Doofus Rick sits miserably on the work bench, before pulling out his portal gun.

It's nighttime in J-19's dimension, and Doofus Rick steps through the portal, walking into the empty lab. The basement seems large and empty, and the shadows of half-working experiments loom in the corners.

A portal winks, then opens, and C-137 steps out.

"Oh. C-137," Doofus Rick says, standing. C-137 holds out his hand.

"Stop," Rick says. "Don't give a shit, don't care."

Doofus Rick's mouth closes. He sits on down on a workbench, sitting on his hands.

Rick tosses him a flask.

"W-w-what is this?"

"Fucking alcohol. What do you think it is?" Rick says, and J-19 unscrews the cap and takes a sip.

Rick's eyes narrow. "Well?"

Doofus Rick winces, then swallows. "I-it's not that good."

"Figures." Rick takes the flask from him again.

"H-how is your Beth?" Doofus Rick asks. Rick shakes his head.

"She's fine. A little shook up, a little drunk. But otherwise she's fine."

Doofus Rick looks at his hands.

"H-hey. Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"If you could clone your daughter...h-h-how come you couldn't clone Diane?"

Rick's mouth tightens.

"The fact that you have to ask that question is why you're the dumbest fucking Rick."


	13. Diane, part 2

.

.

"H-hey. Rick. Can I tell you something?"

"What's that?" Rick opens a flask.

"I...I hopped dimensions too."

"No shit," Rick says. J-19 nods, quietly.

"The Rick in this dimension killed himself," J-19 says. He looks at his hands. "I think he did it because he was lonely."

"Where's he buried?" Rick asks. J-19 points.

"Over there."

Rick and Doofus Rick stare at the lump in the backyard, silently.

"So why'd you have to hop dimensions?" Rick asks. Doofus Rick shrugs.

"A bunch of aliens wanted my technology," Doofus Rick says. "They found me because I don't have a Morty."

"Christ," Rick says. He hands Doofus Rick the flask.


	14. Zeta-8

.

.

This was the last day of Rick J-19-Zeta-8's life.

He had just won the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine for his work in cancer research; he had flown to Oslo to give a lecture on his work, and returned home after staying only a few days. He was tired and jet-lagged from the flight. Opening the door to his house, he didn't bother switching on the light, pulling his carry-on luggage through the doorway and shrugging off his coat.

The house was dark and empty. On days like this, J-19-Zeta-8 wondered why he bothered buying a house - it was mostly so he could have a dedicated space to use as a lab, a place to store his experiments and inventions. The extra bedrooms weren't for guests, they were for machine parts and 3D printers. He had no family, because he never married Diane and he never had a Beth. He had no Morty, because the Citadel hadn't yet assigned one to him.

The moon was out, and everything in front of him seemed traced in starlight. Zeta-8 sat heavily on his workbench, before moving to unlock a drawer.

One red bulb, then another, screwed into a mechanical arm that held two diodes. Silently Zeta-8 put a potted plant between the lasers, then watched as the bulbs flickered, then burst as the lasers incinerated the plant sitting in front of it.

Zeta-8 took a drink. He placed the diodes around his forehead.

J-19-Zeta-7 found his body one week later, crumpled over the work bench, the remnants of the suicide machine and the red shattered bulbs scattered around him. The body was bloated and gaseous, and there was a puddle of old, dried blood that had oozed from the hole in his neck where his head had been.

No one reported Zeta-8 missing. No one actually missed him.

Funny how universes can change: J-19 remembers that night, the long flight from Oslo, the ache in his bones and the unbearable loneliness of coming home. He remembers sitting at his work bench and staring at the potted plant, when he suddenly got a call on his interdimensional phone.

It was Eric Stoltz Mask Morty. "_Grandpa Rick! I-I heard you won the Nobel Prize!_" He put away the suicide machine and talked to Eric Stoltz Mask Morty on the phone, smiling and wiping his eyes.

(In a different time and a different quadrant of the Central Finite Curve, Rick C-137 also sat in front of a suicide machine, because he had just gotten dumped by Unity. He also survived, just like J-19.)

He buried the body. There was a stain on the work bench from the collection of body fluids, so J-19 dragged the wooden table out to the curb, leaving it with the garbage. He dragged a lawn chair from the garage to the deck of his backyard, then sat outside, looking out at the shapes of things in the inky darkness, and how the swath of sky was dotted with tiny stars.


	15. Sex Bot

.

.

"Rick. W-w-why is there a naked lady sleeping in the garage?" Morty stares as Rick drapes the naked lady with a cloth and moves her onto the workbench.

"It's not a naked lady, Morty, it's a robot. Can you, can you pass the ionizer defraculator, Morty? It's over there, Morty. Right over there."

Morty walks over to the shelf and gets the equipment. He turns around. His eyes widen.

"RICK! What the hell are you doing, Rick?!"

Rick is face-deep in between the robot's legs. He doesn't look up as he readjusts his goggles: "W-what are you pissing your pants for now?"

"Why are you spreading her legs?!" Morty says.

"Because I'm putting in the vagina, Morty, Jesus, what the fuck does it look like I'm doing?"

A beat. There is the sound of welding and the soft sounds of metal clinking against metal.

"Rick."

"What now?"

"Does this have something to do with Dad?"

"Wha-? No! I told you, Morty. I'm gonna help J-19 pop his cherry."

"Um..."

"He's too stupid and weird-looking to attract a real lady, Morty. So I gotta build one that'll actually fuck him."

"I don't think J-19 is gonna like this, Rick."

"Yeah and who's the one who fucked the lady-shaped DNA compiler from Gazorpazorp, Morty? 'Cuz it sure as shit wasn't me."

"Rick-"

"_Initiating. Bonding. Sequence. Activated._"

The robot's tits jiggle as it sits up.

xXx

.

"Dad. Why is there a naked robot sitting on my couch?" Beth says.

The robot is watching _The Bachelor_, eating popcorn and giggling at the TV.

"Uh. It's a companion robot for J-19," Rick says. Behind him, Summer runs down the stairs.

"Grandpa Rick! Your stupid sex robot messed up my closet!"

"_I require lingerie. A mini skirt. And a T-shirt that clings to my nipples when the temperature gets cold..._"

"O-o-okay, Sex-Bot-9000, let's go back in Summer's closet."

"Grandpa Rick! No!"


	16. Portal Gun

.

.

This is what happened after J-19 invented the portal gun.

It used to be that J-19 would stay in the university lab well after dark, working on his experiments even after the other faculty and their grad students went home. Some days, he'd pull up a bench and rest his eyes there, leaning on his elbow against the table. He would work by the light of a small desk lamp, which cast large eerie shadows from the different test tubes and centrifuges. Keeping busy was a way to push back against the loneliness, to keep from having to go back home alone.

xXx

.

Ricks, as a rule, like to tinker, and J-19 was no different. While he waited on his experiments, he wrote equations down on the back of a napkin, a string of numbers and symbols that would theoretically lead to a gateway between dimensions.

The light from the portal gun glowed green, casting a sickly glow against the sallowness of J-19's skin.

He wandered the different universes. Instead of sitting in a lab, he would portal to a dimension where there were endless sunsets; slip into a timeline where cities were crumbled into ruins, or forests that were lush and verdant. He wandered through endless starscapes, marveling at a planet with twin moons shining overhead. But he wandered alone, because J-19 had no family or friends he could take with him.

xXx

.

One day, he opened a portal, and everything changed.

Gromflomites from a different dimension, a dimension whose Rick was a terrorist against the Galactic Federation, saw the sudden bright spot of brain waves that were previously masked and undetected. J-19 portaled to their dimension and his brain waves were exposed without a Morty to camouflage him.

"The fuck are you doing?!" someone said, and J-19 whirled around, coming face-to-face with the spiky-haired figure he'd later learn was his alternate: a regular Rick who wielded weapons and had a Morty to shield him.

xXx

.

It's a strange feeling, realizing that you were not like the rest of your alternate selves: the Central Finite Curve contained all the universes where Ricks existed; J-19 and his ilk were the outliers.


	17. Puzzle

.

.

There was a thousand-piece puzzle in Jerry's den that he never solved. Instead of a picture, the front of the puzzle was just different gradations of black, going from ink black all the way to a slate gray. "It's for people with genius IQs," Jerry read, and he bought the puzzle, thinking he could solve it easily.

He couldn't. Four hours later and a pathetic attempt at finding the corner pieces, he threw the puzzle pieces in the box and swore to never think about it again.

xXx

.

"I'm not helping you with that stupid puzzle," Beth said.

It was two years since Jerry bought the puzzle. He was between jobs, and was cleaning out the den when he saw it again. Things were tense between himself and Beth, and he thought maybe working on the puzzle would be a great way to bond again. "Nope," Beth said. "Not interested."

"Oh c'mon, honey. Look at this. It's a genius-level puzzle."

"Well then why don't you go ask my Dad?"

Jerry wasn't about to go ask Rick to help him with a puzzle.

xXx

.

"Um, Dad. I'm not really into puzzles," Morty said.

It was after the whole Pluto debacle, after Jerry had to grudgingly admit that Morty was right, it wasn't a planet. "Oh c'mon," Jerry said. "Don't you want to bond with your old man?"

"Not over a puzzle. Not really."

"Oh."

xXx

.

"Hey Summer," Jerry said, and he leaned against the doorway. "You wanna help your old man out with this puzzle?"

"Oh my god. Why don't you get a job?"

xXx

.

"Hey Rick," Jerry says, coming up to J-19. "Wanna help me with a puzzle?"

"Sure, Jerry!" Doofus Rick says. "I'd love to!"

J-19 sits cross-legged on the floor as Jerry dumps the puzzle pieces onto the carpet.

"Now Rick, this puzzle is pretty difficult...it's all different shades of black, you see? So matching up the pieces won't be easy."

"Oh that's okay, Jerry! As long as we're having fun together, Jerry, that's all that really matters!"

xXx

.

"What are you two dipshits doing?" Rick says.

"O-oh, hi C-137! I-I'm just helping Jerry here with this puzzle!"

"Uh huh."

"I-i-it's different shades of black, so I just thought, maybe if we could come up with an algorithmic expression, w-w-we could mathematically figure out the best solution..."

"So what? You're looking at the_uurp_ variations in the knobs and blanks? The fucking color palette heuristics? W-w-what, are you taking into account the corner pieces, like a fucking noob?"

("What are they doing?" Summer says to Morty. Morty shrugs.

"Math, I guess," Morty says, as Rick and Doofus Rick push in the white board.)


	18. Mexican

.

.

"Hey Rick. It's almost dinnertime. Whaddaya say we go and get some tacos?" Jerry says.

"Sure Jerry!" J-19 says. "I love tacos! That's a great idea!"

Jerry preens, then motions for J-19 to follow him.

xXx

.

If there was one thing his Rick was, it was overly picky about his Mexican food. "What the fuck is this, Jerry? This isn't Mexican food," Rick said. He was sitting in the booth, glowering at the cheery menus and the cacti figurines with the smiley faces painted on them.

"Oh, Dad, they have margarita specials for happy hour," Beth said. Morty loudly sucked his coke through a straw while Summer texted on her phone.

"Rick. I happen to have it on good authority that this place is _authentic_." Jerry remembered his co-worker Alan, who came back to the office positively gushing about "Lucy's Taco-ria." ("What, like diarrhea?" Rick said, but the rest of the family ignored him.) "Look at all this food! And for such a good price, too!"

"Pfft. Lame." Rick slouched into the booth, not looking at them.

Now Jerry takes Doofus Rick to the same spot - same family friendly atmosphere, same smiley, plastic cacti - and makes a big show of ordering a margarita _with the salt on the rim_, enunciating his words so the smiley blonde waiter can hear him.

"So, Rick," Jerry fidgets over a platter of fajitas and dip. "What do you think?"

J-19 beams at him and munches on a chip. "It's really good, Jerry!" J-19 says.

"I mean, it's authentic, right? Because my Rick doesn't know Latin food if it were to come up and bite him on the ass. So I mean," Jerry fidgets, "it's authentic, though, right?"

Doofus Rick blinks. He glances at the fajita platter, at the tiki torch motifs decorating the walls.

"Well I think the most important thing is that it tastes great, right, Jerry?"

"You don't think it's authentic," Jerry says.

Doofus Rick stutters, "W-well..."

"What's so inauthentic about this? They have fajitas! And they have chips and dip-"

"And their fajitas are really good, Jerry! And they put a lot of salsa with the chips!"

"This isn't authentic, is it?" Jerry says, deflating. Doofus Rick quickly shakes his head.

"It's okay that it's not authentic, Jerry! As long as you like the food, right Jerry?"

Jerry slumps, suddenly depressed. "So you and Rick think the same thing," Jerry says. "Good old Jerry. Too much of a dumbass to know good Mexican." He takes an angry sip of his margarita, bitterly.

"H-hey Jerry?" They're walking out of the restaurant, Jerry too depressed to finish eating.

Jerry sighs. "What is it, Rick?"

"You wanna, you wanna eat some really _good_ Mexican?"

"Show me," Jerry says, and Doofus Rick zaps a portal.

xXx

.

"Hot dogs?" Jerry says. He cranes his neck at the beat up bus that's sitting out in the middle of the desert, the only light coming from a string of Christmas bulbs strung up over a grill.

"Not just hot dogs, Jerry - _Sonoran_ hot dogs." Doofus Rick walks ahead of him. "This is my favorite spot to eat, Jerry. I think you'll like it, too!"

"What the hell are Sonoran hot dogs?" Jerry says, and they get in line. It isn't until it's his turn to order that Jerry realizes everything is written in Spanish.

"Don't worry, Jerry-" Doofus Rick evidently had noticed Jerry's discomfort. "I'll order for the both of us, Jerry," and starts speaking to the cashier in perfect Spanish.

Jerry blinks, surprised. Doofus Rick picks up a couple beers and two bottles of Mexican coke, then sits down on a rickety plastic chair. "When did you learn Spanish?" Jerry says.

"Ha ha, Jerry! I always could speak Spanish, Jerry." Doofus Rick pops open the bottle cap to the Mexican coke, then offers one to Jerry.

"You're Hispanic?" This is news to him. Doofus Rick grins.

"W-well. My last name _is_ 'Sanchez,' Jerry."

Oh, shit. No wonder Mexican food always pissed off Rick.

"You must think I'm the biggest idiot," Jerry says. Doofus Rick raises his hands.

"Oh no! Not at all, Jerry - just because y-you have a Spanish last name doesn't mean you know Spanish, Jerry." Doofus Rick counts on his fingers. "I mean, y-y-you could be from, from the Philippines, Jerry, they were colonized by Spain - I mean, their last names are Spanish but they're actually Asian. O-or you could be married into, into a Spanish family, Jerry. There's lots of reasons why someone would have a, a Spanish last name and not be Hispanic." Doofus Rick was always gracious when it comes to Jerry.

The cook comes out with their hot dogs, which are nestled in fluffy grilled buns and covered in Mexican condiments. Jerry takes a bite, and his eyes pop open.

"Wow!" Jerry says. "This is really good!"

"Do you like it, Jerry?" Doofus Rick is beaming. Jerry grins.

"It's the best damn Mexican I've ever eaten," Jerry says.

"Oh, I'm glad, Jerry! It's my favorite place for Mexican, I'm so happy you like it, Jerry!"

And they lift their Mexican cokes, and clink the necks of their bottles.


	19. Mexican, part 2

.

.

"Honey. Kids. We have leftover Mexican." Jerry takes out his to-go bag of half-eaten fajitas and what was left of his chips and dip. Morty pokes in his head.

"Um, Dad. Is it good Mexican, or is it from that fake fusion place that's decorated with tiki torches?" Morty walks into the kitchen while Rick follows him.

"It's good Mexican," Jerry says, offended. "Rick J-19 likes it."

"Yeah, and that guy eats his own shit, Jerry, w-w-w-when it comes to food, I wouldn't trust him."

"Shows how much you know, _amigo_," Jerry says.

"Jesus Christ," Rick says, while Morty slaps his forehead.


	20. Flashback

.

.

This is what happened when Doofus Rick first met Jerry.

"Oh, man," Eric Stoltz Mask Morty said. "We gotta go off-world again."

"I-i-it's okay, Eric Stoltz Mask Morty! W-w-we're just gonna go see C-137's family." J-19 didn't have a uniform, since he didn't have any fighting ability and would be a liability to the other Militia Ricks. But unlike the Militia Ricks, he was a scientist - a shitty scientist, according to the other Ricks, but still, the only one who was available and could track a rogue Rick - and so he and Eric Stoltz Mask Morty packed up and zapped their portal gun, stepping into the C-137 Smith family home.

"C'mon," a Militia Rick said. "The fuck is taking you so long?"

"Oh, sorry, D-39, I-I-I'm still working on recalibrating-"

"You're workin' on eating shit."

"Ha ha!"

"What a fuckin' loser."

Doofus Rick sighed and kept working on the machine.

Eric Stoltz Mask Morty at least got along with the other Mortys. Then again, Mortys were typically not as acerbic and a little more friendly than a typical Rick. J-19 watched as the Militia Mortys invited Eric Stoltz Mask Morty to a card game, and his heart swelled at seeing his Morty being included.

"Hey dipshit." One of the Militia Ricks tossed a crumpled paper at the back of his head. "How about you stop jerking off and help us find Terrorist Rick."

J-19 sighed.

They started messing with the Jerry. J-19 watched as the Ricks placed the prank call, and saw how Jerry grew more and more distressed. "No!" Jerry said. He stood up. "Morty!" And the other Ricks laughed and high-fived each other, mocking and laughing at Jerry.

Poor Jerry. J-19 could see the fear and terror on Jerry's face, then the visible relief at realizing it was all a prank. Relief and irritation and a smidge of humiliation, actually, the emotions flickering in and out of Jerry's face.

J-19 felt bad for him. He mustered up his courage and decided to talk to him.

"Hi, Jerry," J-19 said. Jerry was on the couch, glaring at his laptop.

"Leave me alone, I'm working."

"Oh you are? W-w-w-what do you do?"

"I'm-" a glare. "I'm in between advertising jobs," he said. J-19 leaned forward.

"Advertising, wow! So, people need help figuring out what to buy, and you help them?"

"Well it's a little more complicated than that..." Jerry looked doubtful. J-19 pushed forward.

"Well I mean, you do it, and you seem like a guy who really has it all together."

Jerry stared. "Dude, are you..." Jerry looked around. "You're being a dick, right?"

"Oh gosh, I-I hope not. I-I-I wouldn't want to offend you in any way."

Jerry stared harder. "Are you really a Rick?" J-19 laughed.

"Of course I am! Just as much as my Morty's a Morty." And he waved at Eric Stoltz Mask Morty, who gave him a jaunty wave.

xXx

.

"Hey Rick. I want you to level with me," Jerry says.

"Sure, Jerry," J-19 says. He puts down a puzzle piece. "W-w-what's up?" Jerry searches for his words.

"You're not...you're not actually impressed I'm in advertising?"

"What makes you say that, Jerry?" J-19 says, frowning.

"I mean," Jerry slumps forward. "It's just advertising. And I'm in-between jobs."

"Jerry. I-i-it's hard work. It's creative work. I-I-I couldn't do what you do, and neither could the other Ricks. That's why we have Advertising Ricks," J-19 says. "Just like not all Ricks can be Militia Ricks or even Scientist Ricks. There's value in everything we do."

Jerry goes quiet for a moment.

"I'm glad you're my friend, J-19."

"Aw, Jerry! C'mere, Jerry! I'm glad you're my friend, too!"


	21. Sex Bot part 2

.

.

There's a redhead standing in front of the university entrance.

J-19 doesn't pay any mind - there are lots of students here, it's a research building, but it's not unheard of for faculty to mentor promising undergrads. He bounds up the steps, fully intending to finish rounding out the last of his experiments, when the redhead saunters over, then bends conspicuously in front of him, showing off her cleavage.

"Are you Rick?" Her voice is a husky purr.

J-19 blinks. He turns around, glances over one shoulder, then the other. "A-are you...are you talking to me?"

The redhead smiles. She saunters over. "If you're the Rick who won the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine."

"Y-yeah. That's...that's me."

"Well I find that very sexy." She winks at him seductively.

J-19 blinks. "Oh, I get it," J-19 says. "Gosh, I-I-I was so confused earlier, but it all makes sense..."

The redhead licks her lips. "What is it that you get?" she asks. She squeezes her arms around her breasts, pushing up her cleavage.

"Initiate Operator Mode," J-19 says.

The redhead straightens. "_Accessing. Command. Functions._"

"What's your prime directive?"

"_To seduce. Rick. Sanchez. J. Nineteen. Zeta. Seven._"

"What other functions do you have?"

"_Faking. Orgasms. And. Jiggling. My. Titties._"

"Oh boy." J-19 rubs his neck, awkwardly.

xXx

.

He walks into the library, where the librarian is sitting behind a computer.

"Oh, Rick." The librarian lowers her glasses. "You're looking harried today. What's wrong?"

"Oh. N-nothing, Sharon. I-I'm fine. How are you, Sharon? Are you getting used to...used to the new job?"

"Oh, it's going well, Rick." The librarian smiles. "It's taken me a bit, but I think I've finally figured out the computer system."

"Oh! That's great, Sharon! I-I-I know how hard it is, learning new systems."

"I'm surprised how quickly I learned. Who knew an old fart like me could learn new tricks?"

"You're not old, Sharon! Y-y-you just turned sixty! That's a whole, a whole decade younger than me!"

Sharon laughs. Her silver hair brushes against the V-neck of her sweater, the golden chain of her reading glasses catching the light. She brushes her hair back, exposing the curve of her shoulder. She bends over to put away a stack of books, and J-19 can see the delicate lines of her collarbones.

"Boy, y-you really are pretty, Sharon," J-19 says, before he can catch it.

Sharon smiles at him.

xXx

.

"Um, Rick. I don't think this robot thing is gonna work." Morty looks at the robot doubtfully, frowning at the skin-tight dress and the eye-popping cleavage. Rick waves his hand.

"I-it's a decoy, Morty. Look," and Rick pulls down a sheet, exposing an elegant older woman with silver hair and horn-rimmed glasses.

Morty takes a step back. "What..."

"Yep. I really _urrp_ outdid myself on this one."

xXx

.

Rick opens a portal to Doofus Rick's dimension, and is pleased to see Doofus Rick hanging out with robot Sharon.

"H-hey, J-19. Who's your friend?" Rick gives Doofus Rick a smug, superior look, then elbows Morty knowingly.

"Initiate Therapy Mode," Doofus Rick says. The Sharon robot straightens.

"Rick C-137. Why do you feel a need to belittle Rick J-19-Zeta-7? Is it because you truly disrespect him? Or is it because the things that you despise are the things you have in common with him?"

"Aggh! Fuck!" Rick says, and he shoots open a portal. He storms off, leaving Doofus Rick and Morty and the robot.

"Um..." Morty scratches his head. "So do you think you can open a portal so I can go home?"


	22. Twins

.

.

It's the strangest thing, Morty thinks. Watching Rick and Rick J-19-Zeta-7 interacting.

If he didn't know any better - and most people don't know any better - it looks like Rick and J-19 are twins. Not identical twins, Morty thinks. Fraternal twins, or even Irish twins with Rick as the older brother.

"How the fuck did you know?" Rick says. Morty watches as Rick stalks angrily toward Doofus Rick, who's holding his hands up and backing away from him. "That thing was perfect! I-I-I put a lot of elbow grease into that simulation! So how the fuck did a dipshit like you figure it out?!"

"I-I mean, women aren't usually that interested in me..."

"Are you shitting me?! Are you seriously saying my state-of-the-art sex robot couldn't pass your bottom of the barrel lack of self-esteem?!"

"Sorry, Rick," J-19 says. "I-i-it was really nice of you to try to help me."

"Grandpa Rick! Your sex robots keep going into my closet!"

"Goddammit, Summer! I told you I'd take care of it!"

Morty frowns and walks back out from the garage.


	23. Brain Waves

.

.

This is what happened when Rick left Morty at Doofus Rick's.

The living room to Doofus Rick's house was spare, with a couch and a coffee table and a few standing lamps. Morty sat on the couch, waiting as Doofus Rick looked for his portal gun, bouncing his leg and looking around. No TV, Morty noticed. Instead there were a few stacks of scientific journals and celebrity gossip magazines piled up under the coffee table.

"Boy, you know...that was really something," Morty said. "I-i-it's not everyday someone out-Ricks Rick."

Morty waited. He could hear Doofus Rick digging through his closet.

"That sex robot's...kind of crazy, huh?" Morty said. He picked up a journal, then tossed it back on the table. "W-we actually had a therapist, Dr. Wong. She totally opened Rick a new asshole, heh. But that, that sex robot actually looks a lot like her. She even sounds like her too, when she gets into therapy mode. Truth be told, I-I-I kind of like Dr. Wong's voice, you know. It's really kind of soothing."

He picked up a gossip magazine, flipping through the pages. His eyes widened with a realization.

"Oh man," Morty said. "If Rick built Sharon to be attractive to you...does that mean Rick is actually attracted to Dr. Wong?"

"I think so, Morty. Probably." Doofus Rick's voice floated out from the other room.

Morty leaned back. His Dad was right - Doofus Rick was just as much a Rick as the other Ricks, even if those other Ricks didn't acknowledge it.

"Here it is." Doofus Rick emerged from a room, holding out his portal gun. "Sorry, Morty. I-I-I don't really travel off-world that much. I only use this when the Citadel contacts me."

"Thanks," Morty said, and he stood up from the couch.

"You know, y-y-you don't have to leave," Doofus Rick said. "I mean...y-y-you just got here, right? I can show you around. And I even have an extra bedroom, you can stay the night. I'll call your dad, I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Oh, that's okay." Morty rubbed his neck. "I-I think it's probably better if I got home."

"Oh. Okay, Morty." Doofus Rick smiled awkwardly. He shot open a portal.

Morty started to step forward, then glanced back. Doofus Rick was standing at the center of the living room, his shoulders hunched and his eyes downcast. He looked kind of lonely. It reminded Morty of his dad.

"Aw geez," Morty said. "O-okay. Yeah. I'll stay."

"Really?" Doofus Rick's face lit up into a huge grin.

"I-I mean, Rick is probably pissed, i-it's probably a good idea to wait a little before I get back."

"Oh, that's great, Morty! W-w-we're gonna have so much fun, Morty! I love spending time with my grandsons!"

Morty didn't have the heart to point out that he and the other Mortys weren't technically his grandsons.

xXx

.

Doofus Rick was cooking. Morty watched as he chopped onions and threw them into a pot. "Do you like beef stew, Morty?" Doofus Rick started browning the beef. "I-I-I make a really good beef stew. Eric Stoltz Mask Morty loves my beef stew, Morty, so I think you'll like it, too."

"You know how to cook?" Morty was intrigued.

"Yeah, Morty! O-of course I do! I'm a bachelor, Morty, I had to learn how to cook."

Morty watched as Doofus Rick tossed a few sprigs of rosemary into the pot. "Where is Eric Stoltz Mask Morty?" Morty asked. Doofus Rick stirred the meat and vegetables.

"Oh. H-he lives on the Citadel. There's been a lot of changes, Morty. Mortys aren't assigned to Ricks anymore."

"But don't you need us to mask your brain waves, or whatever?" Morty watched as Doofus Rick poured a box of beef broth into the pot.

"I-I think it's okay now, since your Grandpa collapsed the Federation."

"Hm." Morty leaned on his arms, frowning.

"Morty? W-what's wrong?"

"Oh." Morty sat up. "I was just thinking, you know. Like, 'oh, the stupid Morty waves, they cancel out the genius Rick waves.' I-it's just kind of depressing, you know?"

Doofus Rick lowered his spatula.

"'Stupid waves'?" Doofus Rick echoed. "You mean, the Morty waves being stupid waves?"

"Y-yeah. Or idiot waves. Non-genius waves. Whatever." Morty flipped through a magazine, frowning. Doofus Rick stepped around the table.

"Morty. I-I-I think you have a bit of a misconception, Morty."

"How's that, J-19 Rick?"

"W-well..." Doofus Rick took out a piece of paper. "In order for two waves to cancel each other out, they need to have the same amplitude, right, Morty? See how the crests line up with the troughs?"

Doofus Rick drew the picture Rick had drawn for Morty before. Morty frowned.

"But if you shift the wave over, Morty, see that? They overlap each other. Y-your Morty waves and my Rick waves are exactly the same."

Morty's eyes widened. He looked at the paper.

"The Morty waves are the same as Rick waves?" Morty said. Doofus Rick nodded.

"Of course, Morty! Y-y-you've got the same waves as me! See?"

"Holy shit," Morty said. He stared at the paper.

xXx

.

"I know about the brain waves, Rick," Morty said. The portal closed behind him.

"Oh," Rick said. He sounded bored. "You're back."

"Rick. All this time you've been lying to me, Rick. J-19 showed me," Morty said, and he held up the piece of paper.

Rick leaned backward, looking vaguely disgusted. "Ugh. Okay, Morty. Y-y-you got me. Hold on a second, Morty. I-I-I have this helmet, here, that'll analyze...analyze your brain waves."

"Oh yeah?" Morty said. "You're gonna analyze my Morty waves? Or should I call them genius waves?" Rick stuck the helmet on Morty's head.

"Just a second," Rick said, and he flipped on a switch.

xXx

.

"You cut out his memory?!" Doofus Rick looks horrified. Rick shrugs and sticks the bulb into the socket on the wall.


	24. Rap (Brain Waves part 2)

.

.

Unlike the other Ricks, J-19 Rick lived in relative isolation. He didn't go off-world anymore and he rarely visited other dimensions, and when a portal did open, it was a rare occurrence.

Morty walked around J-19's house, looking around. It was roughly the same size as his Mom and Dad's house, except instead of furnished bedrooms and family photos on the wall, there were only empty rooms used for storage, and a few schematics and math equations scattered around the empty walls.

Morty was cold. Shivering a little, he wandered back to the living room, where J-19 quickly noticed his discomfort. "O-oh! Morty, I'm so sorry," J-19 said, and he ran over to the heater. "I-it's just me, Morty, so I don't usually turn up the heat."

"It's okay, J-19." Morty rubbed his arms, frowning. J-19 smiled awkwardly.

He showed Morty to Eric Stoltz Mask Morty's room. Morty watched as J-19 went over to the dresser drawers, which Morty noticed was still full of Morty-sized clothes.

"Gee, Morty! I-i-it was really nice of you to visit me! These were, were Eric Stoltz Mask Morty's. They should fit you, but i-if they don't, just let me know."

"Thanks, J-19 Rick," Morty said, as Doofus Rick handed him a spare set of clothes.

Morty lay back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Like Morty's room, Eric Stoltz Mask Morty's room was decorated with a few posters with bikini-clad girls taped to the wall.

Morty sat up, looking around. It was nighttime already, so Morty switched on a desk lamp and started rummaging through the desk drawers. A stack of comics; a few pens and pencils. If Morty didn't know any better, he would think he was sitting in his own room, except it was in a different house and a different-sized bedroom.

Downstairs, Doofus Rick was washing dishes. The stew was surprisingly good, Morty's eyes widening as he realized holy shit, no one cooked as well as J-19 Rick. "Aw, thanks, Morty!" J-19 said, and he flashed him a toothy grin. "I-I lived alone for so long, I had no choice but to learn how to cook!"

He started putting away the leftovers; Morty wandered over to refrigerator and opened up the freezer. Inside, there were dozens of meals labeled and individually wrapped into tin foil; "barbacoa, 9/10," one said. "Menudo, 10/14," the other said. They were all small portions, just enough for one person to eat.

"I-I have to date them, otherwise I wouldn't know which is bad or not," J-19 said. "I-I throw out the stuff that's older than three months. You'd think food wouldn't spoil in the freezer, but sometimes it does."

"You cook that much?" Morty silently counted the stacks of tin foil lining the freezer. Doofus Rick nodded.

"I-I always cook too much, Morty, that's why I have to freeze things," J-19 said. "Cooking for one is kind of depressing, Morty, so I-I always cook a lot. But then it's just me and a whole mountain of food on the table! So that's why I freeze them, o-or send them in care packages to Eric Stoltz Mask Morty."

"Huh," Morty said. Doofus Rick beamed proudly at the empty pot the stew had been.

"Guess what, Morty! W-we actually ate it all!" he said, happily. Morty felt kind of bad for him.

Doofus Rick didn't have a TV, but he hooked up a laptop to a box for interdimensional cable. "Sorry, Morty, I-I don't usually watch TV," Doofus Rick said. Morty shook his head.

"That's okay, J-19 Rick. Y-y-you don't have to entertain me."

"Well you're my guest, Morty! I want to make sure you're comfortable!" Doofus Rick was beaming.

Boy. Morty felt really bad for him.

xXx

.

The clock on the nightstand read 3 AM. Groggily, Morty blinked awake, and sat up in the bed with difficulty. For a brief, confusing moment, Morty was disoriented, sleeping in a bed that was kind of like his bed, but not really, in a room that was kind of like his room, but not really. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the dark, and he could make out the shapes of the desk and the computer chair, the edges of the bikini posters taped on the wall.

He wanted to get a drink. Quietly, he crept out of his room and went downstairs, the carpeted steps creaking a little with his weight. The living room was dark and the only light was coming from a digital clock in the kitchen, so Morty made his way to the cupboards, searching around for a glass so he could get a drink of water.

There was a sound. Something like a bass beat, just beneath the floorboards.

Morty set the cup down, frowning. The sound was coming from beneath the door to the basement, where J-19 Rick kept his lab.

Morty opened the door. Gangster rap, the kind Rick listens to when he's pissed, boomed out from the basement. He walked down the stairs, and his eyes widened. Doofus Rick was sitting at his workbench, his back facing the stairs as he bopped his head to the driving bass line, seemingly grooving and working along with the beat.

"You listen to this?" Morty said, and Doofus Rick looked up. His face brightened when he saw him.

"Hi, Morty!" Doofus Rick said, and he turned down the volume. "Sorry, w-w-was my music too loud?"

"No- I just went to get a drink. W-wow. I didn't think you listened to stuff like this." Morty looked around the lab, nodding his head with the beat appreciatively.

"Really? It's my favorite!" Doofus Rick said. Morty walked down the stairs and stepped up to the work bench. He picked up Doofus Rick's phone and scrolled through his playlist.

"Hey, this is Rick's pooping song," Morty said, and he clicked on A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie's _My Shit_, which floated airily out from the speakers. Morty scrolled some more, looking through the playlist. "I-I didn't know you guys like the same music."

"O-oh. Well I am still a Rick," Doofus Rick said, smiling. Morty clicked through a few songs on the playlist and silently agreed with the assessment.

"Hey Rick," Morty says later, when he and Rick are in the garage. "Did you know you and J-19 Rick have the same taste in music?"

"Seriously?" Rick glances up from his work bench, irritated. "There's no way I like the same stuff as that dipshit."

"I-I mean, you guys wear the same kind of clothes-"

"Yeah, and we're also the same fucking age. I-it's just a cosmetic connection your hormone-soaked teenage brain mistakes for something we actually have in common."

"Um. Maybe you should, you should look at his playlist," Morty says.

Doofus Rick and Jerry are sitting in the kitchen. Rick comes up to him.

"Gimme your phone," Rick says.

"Huh?" Doofus Rick blinks as Rick snatches the phone from Doofus Rick's labcoat. Rick's eyes widen a little as he reads the playlist.

"Oh, what the fuck!" Rick says. He throws the phone back on the table. "Aggh, Jesus. Obviously what I've been listening to is a bunch of bullshit. C'mon Morty. Let's go find Water T. Apparently everything I listened to is really fucking lame."

"Really?" Morty says. Rick zaps a portal. "I-I thought you liked gangsta rap, though?"

"That's not gangsta rap, Morty. That's pussy spoken-word poetry over a shitty beat. God, how embarrassing. I can't believe I'm so fucking lame."


	25. Butter

.

.

"Ugh, Grandpa Rick! These sex robots are annoying me!" Summer says.

She stomps around the redhead robot, who's naked again and pawing through Summer's underwear drawer, and pushes past the Sharon robot, who somehow manifested a lightning cable and is currently uploading god-knows-what from the internet.

"Summer. I detect a hint of frustration in your voice. Would you like to expand upon it?"

"NO, robot therapist Sharon, I don't want to expand upon it." Summer slams down her phone.

"Summer. Would you like to suck my nipples?" The redhead robot jiggles her breasts at her. "Seeing you angry makes me _horny_."

Summer yells, "GRANDPA RICK. Take care of this!"

"Alright, alright, geez, quit your bitching." Rick stomps up the stairs.

xXx

.

"Dad. Why is there a robot version of Dr. Wong sitting next to the sex robot?" Beth sets down her bag of groceries.

"Honey, honey. Technically, they're both sex robots. And this one is _not_ a sex robot version of 'Dr. Wong.' Did you hear that, honey? Those were air quotes, in case you were wondering." Rick fiddles with a connection under the redhead's neck while Beth comes over.

"Dad, I don't care. That one is naked and the other one is hijacking the cable." Beth points as robot therapist Sharon starts connecting herself to the TV.

"Eh. Blame J-19. The dumbass re-programmed her to be 'continuously learning.' H-h-hear that, honey? I'm using air quotes again. Because J-19 is a fucking hack." Rick readjusts the redhead's neck.

"What is your function?" the robot therapist Sharon asks the little butter machine in the refrigerator. The butter machine answers.

"I pass butter."

"You seem sad. Not everyone would be sad when they have such a well-described function."

"Ugh."


	26. Gene

.

.

Once again, Morty is tasked with body disposal.

Morty grunts, dragging the bag of robot parts from the garage and down the driveway. The bag is heavy, thanks to the discarded bits of endoskeleton Rick used, and as Morty grunts and strains a corner of the bag catches a rock, causing a tear in the plastic. A hand falls out. Morty curses silently and shoves it back in the bag.

"Um. Having any trouble there?" Their nosy neighbor Gene pops his head out from behind the fence.

"It's not a body, Gene, it's a sex robot. Mind your own goddamn business."

"Sex robot, huh?" Gene adjusts his hat. "Rick making a sex robot?"

"That's what I said, Gene. And I also said to mind your own goddamn business."

Gene disappears behind the fence again.

The bag lands on the curb with a loud_ clink_, and Morty wheezes, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. Disposing bodies is hard work, although usually they're more of the alien carcass or dead clone variety.

"Rick. I got rid of the robots." Morty steps inside. "Gene kept asking about them. Maybe, maybe you should've given him the sex robot."

"Why didn't he save them for parts?" Summer says. She's sitting on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table. Morty sits next to her, heavily.

"Because Rick went at 'em with a sledgehammer. I-I-I don't think any of it was usable."

"Huh." Summer goes back to texting. Morty leans back, catching his breath.

"Um, Morty." Summer motions to the window. "Look."

Morty turns. "What the-"

Their nosy neighbor Gene is pawing through the garbage bags, pulling out the discarded endoskeleton of the sex robot redhead. "I-I-I don't even know if she has a working vagina anymore."

"Heh. I guess Gene'll find out."


	27. Bet

.

.

"Okay, _urrrp_. Brainstorming session. Because I can't believe I have to say this, but maybe you dipshits might have some fuckin' insight I don't have."

Rick stands in front of the white board while Morty, Summer, and Jerry sit in front of him.

"Okay," Rick says. He uncaps a marker. "What can we do to make J-19 fuckable?"

"Ew," Summer says, while Morty goes, "Oh man."

"I mean," Jerry says, and all heads turn, "He's already pretty 'lovable' to me."

"'Lovable,' huh Jerry?" Rick raises an eyebrow. Jerry nods.

"I mean, he's a good guy! He's sweet, he's sensitive. He's really intelligent! And ever since you fixed the lazy eye, his gaze just...penetrates you..."

Jerry drifts off. Morty and Summer stare at him, horrified.

"Not that I would think of that kind of thing! I'm a one-person guy! I'm happily married to your mother!" Jerry holds up his hands. "I'm just saying, he's sweet and sensitive and shy, and any man or woman or space alien would be lucky to have him!"

"O-okay. Jerry," Rick rubs his forehead. "I-I-I'm gonna ignore the fact that even though he's clearly an inferior version of me, he's _still_ an alternate version of me, and as much as I'd like to think my innate animal magnetism would translate to him, it obviously hasn't. So, anybody else? Anyone? Anyone besides Jerry's raging hard-on?"

"Rick, I mean...this is kind of getting to be an obsession, you know. I-I think J-19 is okay," Morty says.

"Yeah, Grandpa Rick, why do you even care?" Summer says. Rick crosses his arms.

"I have a bet," Rick says. "The other Ricks in the other universes made a bet that the Rickest Rick - who is me, by the way, in case you haven't noticed - couldn't get that pathetic excuse for a Rick laid. So yeah," Rick says. "I have my reputation at stake. And also, I bet Morty as collateral."

"What?!" Morty says, and Summer yells, "Grandpa Rick!" while Jerry mutters, "I don't have a hard-on..."

"Okay, okay quit shitting yourselves, it'll be fine," Rick says. "I'll just tell J-19 about the bet, and he'll probably go and fuck an escort to help us out."

"Oh man," Morty says. "I'm gonna end up with another Rick, aren't I?"

Summer pats Morty on the shoulder sympathetically.


	28. Bet, part 2

.

.

"I-I-I don't wanna be with another Rick! I-I-I want to stay with my family-"

"Grandpa Rick is a jerk but you need to help Morty!"

J-19 takes a step backward, while Summer and Morty talk over each other, Rick standing in the background, rolling his eyes.

"Okay, okay," J-19 raises his hands. "It's okay, kids. It's okay. I-I-I already slept with Sharon before I knew she was a robot. It's okay."

"What?" Morty says, and Summer goes, "That's awesome!" while Rick fistpumps in the background.

"Yeah, I knew it!" Rick says. "I knew my sex robot was state-of-the-art! Yeah!"

"Wait, Rick, how are you gonna prove it? Don't you, don't you need to have proof?" Morty says. Rick waves his hand.

"I'll just look it up from the system logs...oh shit. You took it out with the garbage, Morty! Goddammit!"

"Because you _told me_ to, Rick! And it wasn't taken by the garbage, all the parts were taken by Gene."

"Gene?" Rick says. "The fucking nosy neighbor? _Gene_?"

"Well," J-19 says. He smiles awkwardly. "I guess that solves your problem, then."

"Yup." Rick shoots a portal. "I gotta go and grab those parts. C'mon Morty."

"Bye, J-19 Rick," Morty says, and he hops into the portal. Summer waves.

"Bye, Grandpa J-19."

"Bye kids," J-19 says, and the portal winks shut.

J-19's smile fades.

The sun is setting, and the kitchen is dark except for the small flames from the stovetop, his stew bubbling in an earthenware pot.

Sharon liked his stew. She had the biggest smile when she first tried it, and J-19 remembers how his heart stopped in his throat, how he grinned stupidly when he realized she liked it.

J-19 turns off the gas, then dumps the stew into the garbage. His face is drawn as he quietly shuts the curtains.


	29. System Logs

.

.

"Holy shit, Morty, look at this. He fucked her three times in one night!"

Rick pulls up the system logs, typing on the keyboard. Morty frowns.

"Rick, you know, we already won the bet. I-I don't think we should be looking at this. It seems like it should be private."

"Oh shit, different positions!" Rick scrolls through the system logs. "Oh damn, son! The fucker really is a Rick! Look at this, Morty, look at this! He fucking made that robot cum from cunnilingus! And not simulated, Morty - the fucking robot came _for real_."

"Didn't he seem kind of bummed to you? You know...kind of sad?" Morty says. "I-I just feel bad for him, you know? Like, he thought he actually met someone, but it turned out it wasn't real." Morty scratches his head. "Wait. How the hell do you make a robot cum from cunnilingus? Do sex robots have nerve endings?"

"Duh," Rick says. His fingers clack on the keyboard. "This wasn't, this wasn't that walking flesh-light like that DNA compiler. This was a 100%, fully realized human fabrication. It looks, feels, and acts like a human in every way. I-i-it was designed to be a companion bot, you know, if the idiot didn't re-program it."

"R-really, Rick? That sex robot was basically human?"

"Uh huh. W-w-what'd I just tell you? It was basically everything short of being self-aware."

Morty's eyes go wide.

"Hey Rick. Um. Do you think, maybe, you know, um..."

"No, I'm not building you a sex robot, Morty, I can think of about a million other things I can do with my time."

"...Oh."


	30. System Logs, part 2

.

.

"W-w-w-wait a second. Rick. Is my mom a sex robot?"

"What?" Rick turns. Morty fidgets.

"W-well, I've seen your clones, Rick, they're all mindless unless you transfer into them, right? So wouldn't...wouldn't it be better to build a robot clone, you know, that looks and sounds and feels like Mom, but like, programmed to be nicer to our family? Wouldn't, wouldn't that be a better plan?"

A beat.

"Morty, w-w-what does it matter? You have literally infinite versions of your Mom. I-i-it's like asking if monopoly money is printed on paper, Morty. It's literally the stupidest question you could ask."

"Oh my god my Mom's a sex robot," Morty says.

"COMPANION robot! Jesus, Morty, you're talking about my daughter, your Mom!"

"Oh man."

"Yeah. Good job, Morty. I-i-it's not my fault this time, Morty. Not my fuckin' fault."


	31. Eric Stoltz Mask Morty, part 2

.

.

"H-hi, Eric Stoltz Mask Morty. Do you...do you want to go on an adventure with me?"

Eric Stoltz Mask Morty looked up. Doofus Rick had stepped out of the portal unexpectedly; he walked toward him, smiling awkwardly.

"Aw geez, J-19 Rick. I-I-I can't. Hunchback of Notre Dame Rick and I are planning to go to the Kalaxian sector."

"Oh, he is? W-w-w-why are you going all the way over there for? I-i-it's just flesh-eating monsters and crystals."

"Yeah. I think he wants the crystals," Eric Stoltz Mask Morty said. Hunchback of Notre Dame Rick limped in.

"What's this turd doing here?" Hunchback of Notre Dame Rick said. He shuffled sideways, his hump bumping into the doorframe.

"Um, my old Rick, J-19-Zeta-7 Rick, he, he was asking if I could, you know, go on an adventure with him."

"I-i-i-it's okay, Eric Stoltz Mask Morty," Doofus Rick said, holding up his hands. "I-I-I don't actually need a Morty. I just wanted to get some ice cream, you know? I-I thought maybe you'd want to join me."

"Lame," Hunchback of Notre Dame Rick said. Another portal opened.

"Hey, check it out, it's Doofus Rick and Hunchback of Notre Dame Rick." A group of Militia Ricks stepped out.

"Yeah that's my name, bitch, don't wear it out," Hunchback of Notre Dame Rick said, and he high-fived him. "Whaddup, playas? I'm gonna get me some Kalaxian crystals. Gonna get me and my hump _urrp_ fucked _up_. Wanna join me?"

"Yeah!"

"Count me in!"

"Gonna get shit-faced _urrrp,_ mothafucka!"

The Ricks laughed and fist-bumped each other. Eric Stoltz Mask Morty turned to Doofus Rick.

"Sorry, Rick. I-I-I would have liked to go with you for ice cream."

"I-It's okay, Eric Stoltz Mask Morty. I-I don't go off-world that much. That's why you're no longer assigned to me."

"Hey, ding dong, we're leaving, wrap it up already," Hunchback of Notre Dame Rick said. Doofus Rick bent down and hugged Eric Stoltz Mask Morty.

"Be careful, okay, Morty?"

"Y-you got it, Rick."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Okay, barf," Hunchback of Notre Dame Rick said. The other Ricks shook their heads, disgusted, and opened a portal.

xXx

.

"The Mortys are all being reassigned?" Doofus Rick's eyes widened while the Militia Ricks groaned and rolled their eyes. "So, so Mortys aren't going to be paired with Ricks?"

"Yeah, it's all thanks to the new election. Apparently Mortys should be seen as _people_." The Militia Rick's eyeballs rolled so far they practically popped out of his head.

Doofus Rick opened a portal to the Citadel, where Eric Stoltz Mask Morty was moving in. He had his own apartment and two other roommates, Normal Morty and Horny Morty (horny as in, he had a horn growing out of his forehead, although the other Mortys thought his nickhame was hilarious).

"Geez, Eric Stoltz Mask Morty, your Rick is really cool," Normal Morty said.

"Yeah, Eric Stoltz Mask Morty, my old Rick wouldn't help me move, either."

"Oh, I don't mind." Doofus Rick hefted a box of Eric Stoltz Mask Morty's stuff, setting it against the wall. "Someone needs to look out for the Rickless Mortys, you know?"

"Thanks, Grandpa Rick," Eric Stoltz Mask Morty said, smiling. The other Mortys stared.

"Y-you call him 'Grandpa Rick'?"

"That's what Summer calls him."

"My Rick doesn't mind when I call him that," Eric Stoltz Mask Morty said, smiling.

xXx

.

Eric Stoltz Mask Morty didn't have a family he could go home to.

His dimension - the Eric Stoltz Mask People dimension - got obliterated thanks to one of Eric Stoltz Mask Rick's experiments. Eric Stoltz Mask Rick didn't survive. Eric Stoltz Mask Morty barely did.

When Eric Stoltz Mask Morty was assigned to him, he was like a cornered animal - angry, frightened, ready to lash out at anyone who would come near him. It took some time, but Doofus Rick was able to get him to trust him.

Doofus Rick was the only family Eric Stoltz Mask Morty had.

He sits in the dark of his laboratory, staring at the red bulbs and the suicide machine placed at the center. It wouldn't be fair to him, Doofus Rick thinks, and he sets the bulbs aside. Eric Stoltz Mask Morty already lost so much. He couldn't do that to him.

Doofus Rick takes a drink. Setting down the flask, he ignores the warmth that's gathering at the corners of his eyes, then starts putting away the pieces to his machine.

Outside, the night is quiet. He could hear the sound of crickets chirping, the soft whoosh of cars driving by.

He wraps the bulbs up carefully in cellophane, then sets them in a box. One, two bulbs, and the twin diodes, one after another, before closing the flaps and taping them shut.


	32. Apology

_Note: Spoilers for Season 4 episode 2  
_

* * *

.

"Hey man. I-I-I know I give you a lot of shit, you know. But seriously...it was really nice of you to come here."

J-19 looks up. Rick is elbows deep in the bowels of the disassembled toilet, the porcelain seat and various tools scattered in the tall grass. There is a slight breeze, and a shaft of yellow light breaks through the slate gray clouds, bathing the toilet in a golden light. It's all so achingly beautiful until Rick pushes the button that makes huge hologram crowds of angry Ricks appear, hurling insults and taunting the toilet user.

"W-why did you add these holograms again?" J-19 asks, and Rick grunts, pulling on a tube.

"Don't ask," Rick says. He tosses another piece onto the ground.

They work in silence. J-19 doesn't know the story behind the toilet, only that Rick had set it up, and now he needed help taking it down, and that two Ricks worked faster than one.

"This place is really beautiful," J-19 says. "I-I can't believe you found this."

"That's why you gotta get off-world more, dawg. There's lots of places like this." Rick tosses a metal piece into the grass, which lands with a dull thud. "You know, lots of Ricks across the multiverse have similar toilets like this. Y-y-you should look into building one."

"Oh. I-I use the bathroom at home. But this place would be nice to visit." They both realize it's because J-19 is alone - unlike the other Ricks, he has no family at home to disturb him.

They lapse into silence. Above them, there's the sound of loons crying in the distance, and the dark sky starts to lighten with the sunrise. J-19 pauses to look up at the sky, watching how the orange light seems to leak through the clouds, when Rick sits up and clears his throat.

"Hey man, um. About that sex robot," Rick says. J-19 turns. "It was kind of fucked up, I gotta admit it. I mean, it was fucking hilarious, don't get me wrong - but I took it too far. I'm sorry."

"Oh gosh, C-137," J-19 breathes. "Thank you. That...that really means a lot to me," J-19 says.

"Okay, well, let's not forget, you're so goddamn pathetic, programming a robot was the only way to get you laid."

"...Oh."

"-with your fuckin' buck teeth and haircut, I mean, what the fuck, J-19? A bowl cut? Seriously? Y-y-you realize there's nothing sexy about a haircut that a cheapass mother gives her three-year-old child, right? I mean, the lazy eye, sure, that was a bad hand. But _everything else?_ Jesus Christ! You might as well be wearing a sign that says, 'hey don't fuck me,' in fucking neon letters."


	33. Reveal

.

.

This is how J-19 found out.

Sharon was asleep, her face tucked against the crook of his shoulder and cuddled up warmly against his chest. Earlier, he had spent the night curled up against her back, his arm slung over her waist and spooning her while she slept. It wasn't until she stirred and turned that they shifted, her leaning against his chest while he lay on his back. It felt nice, and he felt himself starting to drift off as she cuddled against him. He stroked her hair absently, watching the soft streaks of moonlight filtering into the room, when he felt it: a small, pea-sized indentation at the base of her neck.

J-19 stopped. For a moment, there was nothing but the soft sound of Sharon's breath, the slight tightening of her arms as she nuzzled him in her sleep. It could be anything, J-19 thought. A lipoma or an old scar. But his fingers brushed over the button, and everything stopped.

J-19 has cried before: cried in front of the Militia Ricks when they made fun of him, burst into tears on Jerry's couch when they came over and openly mocked him. He cried sometimes when he felt lonely, when Eric Stoltz Mask Morty went back home and he had no one to visit him. J-19 felt his eyes water as he stared at the lattice work of neural connections, the silvery wires threading in and out of her skin like tiny hairs. He put her back together and woke her up, hoping she would be self-aware, but she wasn't: she sat up, looked J-19 in the eyes, and asked him what her function is.

The therapy thing, it was a petty, stupid way to get back at Rick. He didn't want to admit how much the whole thing hurt him, and a small part of himself was able to eek out a bit of satisfaction at seeing Rick curse and swear and kick the wall.


	34. Eric Stoltz Mask Morty, part 3

.

.

There was a throng of Ricks crowding around the outside of the Citadel stronghold. "Oh shit!" a Rick said, while another Rick shouted, "Yeah, get him!" J-19 glanced at his assignment - this was where he was supposed to pick up his new Morty.

The Ricks had circled the new Morty, shouting and jumping back as the Morty lashed out, screaming hysterically until one of the Ricks dragged him back on the ground.

"Get the taser!" a Militia Rick said, and J-19 could hear the Morty howl as the taser slammed into him.

"Hey!" J-19 ran toward them. "Hey, h-he's just a Morty! It's okay!"

"This yours?" a Rick said, and the Ricks moved back to reveal J-19's newest Morty crouched on all fours, his clothes torn and the large outgrowth of his head bending forward.

J-19 approached him. The Morty was shaking. Carefully, J-19 crouched low and showed him his hands. "I-it's okay," J-19 said. "I-I'm your new Rick. I'm not going to hurt you."

"You're not my Rick. My Rick is dead." The Morty looked up, and the Ricks gasped and recoiled at the Morty's face, which was large and misshapen, cauliflower growths jutting out from his chin and forehead.

"Non-cooperation," a Rick sniffed, and the Militia Ricks whispered to each other. "He's a defective Morty. The Council will likely advise termination."

"H-his universe was destroyed, right? I-I-I have the paperwork." J-19 showed him. "Just...just let me take him."

"Huh. Looks like Doofus Rick's getting the Eric Stoltz Mask Morty." The Ricks all laughed and high-fived each other.

"Morty, a-a-a-are you okay?" J-19 bent toward Eric Stoltz Mask Morty, who was still curled up on the ground, shaking. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, okay?"

The Morty looked up. Greasy fat tears rolled down the bulbous sides of his face.

"Everyone is dead," Eric Stoltz Mask Morty said, and J-19 put his arms around him.

xXx

.

There were other Eric Stoltz Mask universes, but none of them were Eric Stoltz Mask Morty's home.

He wasn't eating. J-19 hovered around him anxiously, trying to coax him to eat. "I-i-is there anything you like? Anything I can give you?" Eric Stoltz Mask Morty hunched forward.

"I like my mom's stew."

xXx

.

"We're not going anywhere?" Eric Stoltz Mask Morty watched, amazed that his new Rick was a Rick who didn't go off-world, who only invented a portal gun out of curiosity, but had no desire to use it. J-19 smiled and patted the bench, showing him.

"H-h-hey Morty. Wanna help me with this pipette?"

"Sure, Rick," Eric Stoltz Mask Morty said, and soon J-19 was showing him how to make agar solutions and set up plates for electrophoresis, showed him how to culture cells and how to edit genes with CRISPR. "Wow, Rick! This is, this is really cool!" Morty said, and Doofus Rick showed him how normal cells grew in a confluent monolayer, then showed him how cancer cells grew, unwieldy and toppling over each other. "They call it 'immortality in culture,' Morty! I-i-isn't that funny?" Doofus Rick said, and Eric Stoltz Mask Morty nodded.

"Yeah, Rick," he said, and he beamed at him. "It sure is."


	35. Suicide Machine

.

.

"Hey. Get a load of this. It's Doofus Rick. H-h-hey dipshit! I heard you were fucking a robot."

"Ha ha!"

"Yeah, he's so _urrp_ fucking stupid, he couldn't even tell the difference between a sentient human being and a robotic simulacrum of a _urrrp_ human woman!"

"Ha ha! So lame!"

"So fucking lame!"

The Ricks laugh, high-fiving each other.

Word somehow spread throughout the Citadel about C-137's bet and the ten Ricks who goaded him into it: the robot debacle even made it on the Rixty Minute News, the Newscaster Ricks gleefully intercutting a _state of the art! Re-creation!"_ stick-figure illustrations of Doofus Rick fucking the robot.

"Y-you know why you had to fuck a robot, don't you?" one of the Ricks jeers at him.

"It's because you're a waste of space. No one will ever fucking love you."

xXx

.

The lab is too quiet. J-19 pulls out his portal gun.

The portal opens just outside the C-137/Not-Really-C-137 Smith home, just across the street, where a few cars go by. It's nighttime and the lights are on in the Smith House, and as J-19 walks forward he sees them: Jerry and Beth and the rest of the family. They're eating dinner; the kids are talking. J-19 steps a little closer and can see C-137 Morty gesturing towards his Rick, and Beth leaning her body a little towards Jerry.

Oh. He probably shouldn't disturb them. There's a lump in his throat, because all the Ricks have families except him, and none of them are smart enough to appreciate it.

The portal opens just outside Eric Stoltz Mask Morty's door.

"Grandpa Rick?" Eric Stoltz Mask Morty is surprised; Horny Morty and Normal Morty are in the living room, in the middle of cutting crystals and wafting the smoke.

"H-hi, Eric Stoltz Mask Morty. I-i-is this a bad time?"

"Oh. Um, i-i-it's okay," Eric Stoltz Mask Morty opens the door, letting him in.

J-19 walks in. The apartment is small and cramped and there's piles of dirty clothes lying everywhere; a typical teenage boy's apartment. Horny Morty takes a deep breath of crystal smoke and Normal Morty lets out a high-pitched squeal.

"A-are you doing drugs?!" J-19 asks, shocked. Eric Stoltz Mask Morty frowns.

"I-i-it's okay, we only do it every once in a while-"

"Eric Stoltz Mask Morty! Kalaxian crystals are highly addictive! Y-y-y-you could get an arrhythmia or seizures from it! I-I can't believe you're doing this!"

"Yeah, well that's because we got the crystals from another Rick." Eric Stoltz Mask Morty crosses his arms.

J-19 rears back, as if slapped. "I-I thought I taught you better than this."

"You didn't teach me anything. You just kept me locked up in that stupid lab."

J-19 blinks. "Stupid lab?" he says. Eric Stoltz Mask Morty's face scrunches, irritated.

"W-w-why are you here, anyway? You're not my Rick. You don't, you don't get to keep your tabs on me anymore."

"I'm sorry," J-19 says. He holds up his hands. "I-I just wanted to see you-"

"Why? So you can rag on me and all my friends? Shame me for using a few Kalaxian crystals?"

"Eric Stoltz Mask Morty, I'm sorry-"

"Y-you know what else? I-I'm sick of you just dropping by, you know, without calling! I-i-it's really irritating! I-I'm living on my own. You need...you need to respect my boundaries!"

"Boundaries?" J-19 echoes. Horny Morty snorts another puff of smoke.

xXx

.

He rips open the suicide box. The packaging tape tears, pulling bits of cardboard out as Doofus Rick violently yanks it. He dumps the parts to the suicide machine on the table, the mechanical arm, the twin diodes. The two red bulbs that had been carefully wrapped in cellophane and tissue paper.

His hands are shaking. He screws on the arm, then stops and sobs, brokenly. All the Ricks have families. All the Ricks have people who love them.

He sets down the metal plate with a loud thud. Sniffing, he screws in the red bulbs, one by one.

xXx

.

C-137 Rick is bored. Jerry is nattering on about some dipshit show he saw on TV, and as Rick's eyes drift over toward the window he thinks he catches a glimpse of J-19.

What the fuck? Rick stands, but the portal winks shut.

"Dad?" Beth and Jerry stop, looking at Rick. "Dad, what are you doing?"

"Eh. I think I saw J-19," Rick says. He scratches his neck.

"Oh! You should invite him in!" Jerry says.

"No thanks, Jerry. I-I-I think I'd blow my brains out if I have to hear more of your stupid stories." Rick pulls the portal gun out of his pocket and shoots open a portal.

"Yo, ding dong." Rick steps out. The portal opens in J-19's living room, which is dark and oddly quiet. "W-w-w-what the hell were you doing just now? Y-you were standing like a fuckin' creeper. I mean, that's some serial killer level shit, you know, standing there just staring into the window."

Rick walks around toward the kitchen, then opens the door to the basement, walking down the lab.

"Yo, you in here?" Rick says. His feet step onto the concrete. "The fuck are you doing-

"WHOA, what the FUCK?!" Rick says, and he yanks Doofus Rick's head back just as the laser fires.

Doofus Rick crumples into himself. He hugs himself tight, hunching into the chair.

"What the hell, man? I-I-I thought you were too healthy for this shit!"

Doofus Rick doesn't say anything. His eyes track toward the suicide machine, which is now lying sideways on the floor.


	36. Suicide Machine, part 2

.

.

"I-I'm really sorry, guys. It was an impulsive decision. I-I'm better now."

"That's a hell of an impulse," Jerry says. Rick passes Doofus Rick a drink.

Rick, Doofus Rick, and Jerry sit at a bar in the D-79-gamma-2 dimension. It's a universe that has the best drinks, Rick having scoped the place years ago, and also fairly discreet: few Ricks traveled there, because unlike the Rickest Rick, most Ricks didn't have good taste.

"Are all Ricks that suicidal?" Jerry asks.

"It's the core of being a Rick," Rick says. "It's all fun and games, but it just masks the self-loathing and crippling loneliness."

"Wait...you're lonely, Rick?"

"Me? Fuck no. I'm just talking about the dipshit Ricks. No offense," Rick says to Doofus Rick.


	37. Telomeres

.

.

"Y-you know, i-i-it's actually pretty impressive, you know, what you were able to achieve with robotics," Doofus Rick says. "I-I-I was never really good at that."

Rick waves his hand. "It's only because cloning is so imperfect."

Doofus Rick blinks. "How so?"

Rick shoots his portal gun. "C'mon."

They step into an underground warehouse; there are countless vats of Rick clones of various ages, all of them floating in fluorescent green liquid.

"So this is a reality where I didn't take Operation Phoenix offline," Rick says. "I-it's kinda fucked up how I kept getting rerouted to the fucking fascist realities, but whatever."

"These are all your clones?" Doofus Rick cranes his neck, looking around.

"Yeah." Rick steps forward. "Notice something they have in common?"

"Gray hair," Doofus Rick says. He touches the glass. "Signs of old age."

"Y-yep." Rick sticks his hands in his pockets. "Cloning is imperfect because the cells I've got have already aged. So I-I-I'm basically creating something that's physically young, but at a molecular level, an advanced age."

"Baby Ricks cloned from your cell lines h-have Old Rick chromosomes." Doofus Rick steps around. "But C-137. You could, you could increase your telomeres."

"What?"

Doofus Rick nods, looking at the vat. "I-i-if you use a modified version of RNA, you know, y-you could restore their original length. Your clones age because your telomeres get short, right? They're what, they're what protect your chromosomes from getting damaged. But with every cell division, they get shorter and shorter until there's nothing to protect them. But if you clone yourself after restoring your telomeres..."

"My clones won't have aged." Rick stares.

"Fuck," Rick says. He turns around. "You're fucking smart."

"I-I am?"

"Yeah! I mean...you fucking wasted your genius, you know, on that piecemeal, sheep-like, circle-jerk slow-ass way of collaborative science, you know, fucking waiting for your findings to be replicated by people exponentially dumber than you...I mean, damn. Telomeres! It's so obvious! How did I not think of that?"

"I-I mean, I work more with cells than the other Ricks do-"

"And that's why the other Ricks think you're an idiot! I mean, c'mon! Y-you could have invented the same shit we have, but instead you just locked yourself up in that lab. W-w-w-why would you do that? Why waste your brain on something so small?"

"I mean...I guess I got into it after I met Diane."

"Wait, Diane?" Rick says. Doofus Rick nods.

"In my dimension, Diane is a cancer researcher."

"You're fucking shitting me," Rick says.


	38. Brain Waves, part 3

.

.

"H-hey, J-19. There's a nutridium cluster over in the Volatoran Quadrant. Y-y-you wanna go on a quick adventure?"

"Me?" Doofus Rick says. Rick nods.

xXx

.

"H-hey Morty."

"Yeah?"

"Here," Rick says, and he fits a helmet on his head. "Wear this."

The helmet sinks heavily over Morty's eyes. "Umm..."

"Yeah, J-19's comin' with us, Morty, so there's _urrp_ gonna be twice as many Rick waves. A-a-a-and you know what happens when you get two identical waves that overlap each other, Morty. They fucking amplify each other."

"...Oh man."

"So you gotta wear this helmet, Morty. It'll...it'll amplify your brain waves."

"The stupid waves?" Morty says. Rick nods.

"Yup."


	39. Visit

.

.

A portal opens up in the middle of Eric Stoltz Mask Morty's livingroom.

"Rick! I-I told you, you need to call first before visiting, Rick!" Eric Stoltz Mask Morty stands.

But it's not his Rick that steps out of the portal: it's a regular Rick, looking slightly pissed, in a labcoat and spiky hair.

"U-umm...can we help you?" Eric Stoltz Mask Morty shoots a look at Horny Morty and Regular Morty, who've poked their heads into the living room.

The Rick walks past them. "I'm taking your shit."

"What?"

The Rick sticks his hand under a couch cushion and pulls out the baggie of Kalaxian crystals they had stashed a few nights earlier. "Oh my god, are you kidding me? These are _Kalaxian crystals,_ only Ricks can handle this. You're a Morty. Your brains'll explode if you snort this shit."

The Mortys stare, too dumbfounded to say anything as the Rick walks around the living room.

Horny Morty screws up his courage. He walks toward the Rick angrily.

"Hey man! That's, that's ours! You can't...you can't steal this from us, go somewhere else to get your drugs."

The Rick gives a loud, annoyed sigh, then fishes out another baggie of Trollarium weed they had stashed behind a lamp.

"H-hey! Did you hear me? A-a-are you deaf, old man? You can't-"

"You know why I'm here?" the Rick turns. "I'm here because a bunch of coked up Mortys need babysitting, because obviously they can't handle their shit without a Rick."

"H-hey, you can't-"

The Rick shoots a portal, giving them the finger as he walks out.

xXx

.

J-19 and Jerry portal back from whatever shithole place they were visiting, the portal opening up in front of the garage.

"Yo J-19." Rick is crushing the crystals with the edge of a credit card. "Y-you want some of this?"

"Um, no thanks," J-19 says. Jerry steps forward.

"Rick! What did I tell you about doing drugs on my property?"

Rick ignores him and snorts up the drugs.

"What the fuck, these aren't Kalaxian crystals!" Rick stands up. "W-w-w-what a bunch of idiots! They might as well be snorting limestone, fucking morons."


	40. Mexican, part 3

.

.

"Hey Rick. Tell me what you think, I want you to listen to this."

Doofus Rick leans forward as Jerry clears his throat, then gives him a smug grin.

"Coe-moe. Es. Stass."

For a moment, Doofus Rick looks confused, but then his face brightens.

"A-are you saying 'how are you' in Spanish?" he asks.

Jerry nods, smugly.

"Wow, Jerry!" Doofus Rick says. "W-w-when did you start learning Spanish?"

"Well, I figured, since I'm in-between jobs, I ought to broaden my horizons a little bit." Jerry takes a triumphant sip of his margarita.

They're at Lucy's Taco-Ria again, because J-19 Rick was right, as long as the food's good, it doesn't matter if it's authentic. They share an extra large platter of fajitas and a mild queso for chips and dip (although if you asked Jerry's opinion, "mild" was still "spicy," and they really ought to be more clear about that).

J-19 is doing okay. When Rick burst into Jerry's living room, the portal opening suddenly like an alligator's jaw, Jerry was surprised when Rick grabbed him by the arm and said, "You're coming with me. NOW."

"What?" Jerry said, but Rick yanked him into the portal.

J-19 was on his hands and knees, weeping in the middle of the basement. The portal opened and Rick and Jerry stepped out, and as soon as Jerry saw him his eyes widened.

"Rick?!" Jerry ran over to J-19. "Rick, what happened? Are you okay?!"

Jerry's Rick, C-137 Rick, took a drink from his flask, stepping back as J-19 started crying and Jerry started talking nonsense to comfort him.

"So...you guys want a drink? 'Cuz I think I need a fucking drink." Rick fiddled with his portal gun while J-19 wept and Jerry was hugging him, trying his very best not to say something scathingly sarcastic but also dead-on and hilarious, which is what Rick would normally be doing.

Jerry heard the whole story in stops and starts, which were punctuated by half-swallowed sobs and the occasional sniffing. "Oh, Rick," Jerry said, and he patted J-19's shoulder. "Rick, they're just kids. You're like a father to him, of course he's gonna act out."

"But...but he told me he didn't want to see me anymore. He told me I shouldn't be visiting him-"

"He told you to call first. He's just testing his boundaries," Jerry said. "You know what, Rick, when Morty and Summer were babies, we'd take them to daycare and you know what happened? They'd be so perfect for the people watching them, but as soon as we picked them up, they'd start yelling and throwing tantrums. And you know why that is?"

"Because you're terrible parents?" C-137 said.

"Because they're our children. No matter how shitty they're being, they know we'll always love them."

J-19 sniffed. "R-really?"

"Yeah. And I mean, Eric Stoltz Mask Morty is only fourteen. He's just going through a rebellious phase, all you have to do is wait it out and keep loving him."

"Pfft," C-137 Rick rolled his eyes while J-19 stared up at him earnestly.

"Wow, Jerry," J-19 said. "You really are wise, Jerry."

"Ugh," Rick said. He grabbed a bottle. "I think I'm gonna need another drink."


	41. Bet, part 3

.

.

"Hey Rick, you know, I gotta say, I was really surprised to see how much you helped J-19," Jerry says. "You put up such a hard front, but on the inside, you really do care about us."

"Yeah you keep thinking that, Jerry. Whatever helps you sleep at night," Rick says.

Jerry scoffs. "C'mon Rick. We both know you were worried about him. Why can't you just admit it?"

"Okay, Jerry, I-I-I'm gonna let you in an a little secret, okay. I wasn't worried about him. I was afraid I was gonna _urrp_ lose a bet."

"Another bet?" Jerry says. Rick nods.

"Yeah. One of the Ricks bet that Doofus Rick would kill himself after all this. I bet that he wouldn't. So it's in my best interests to keep that dipshit breathing."

Jerry spreads his hands. "Well I mean, you could have made the opposite bet..."

"Yeah no, Jerry the odds were a million to one, and if you end up winning you get a bigger payout. I-i-it's just simple math, Jerry. Or maybe that's too complicated for you."

Jerry stares. "You really are a dick," Jerry says. Rick shrugs.

"Duh."


	42. Baby Rick

.

.

"Whoa! Oh shit, J-19. Y-y-you were right about those telomeres. Damn."

Rick holds the newly-formed clone in his hands: instead of the same blue-ish gray hair Rick had, the newborn's hair is fine and dark, and instead of the sickly pale-gray skin, its skin is red and clear. J-19 beams at the clone, who's wailing and crying like a typical newborn, so Rick tucks it under his arm and walks toward his suspension vat.

"W-w-what are you doing, Rick?" J-19 says. He follows Rick toward the vat.

"I'm gonna put him in this suspension vat, then I'm gonna point a laser at him to make him grow. W-what'd you think I was doing?"

"But...but if you make him grow now, he won't...his mind won't have developed," J-19 says.

"Duh," Rick says. He starts to lower the wailing baby into the liquid.

"Wait! No! Don't! Stop!" J-19 grabs the baby from Rick's arms.

"The fuck are you doing, J-19? It's just a clone-"

"He's a baby, I'm not gonna let you kill him!"

"I'm not gonna kill him, J19! I'm-" Rick rubs his face, exasperated. "I'm just gonna put him in this vat, put him in suspended animation, and force his body to grow to an adult size. I-i-it's standard Operation Phoenix stuff, and considering the bullshit I went through last time, I figure I need at least one clone standby to be operational."

J-19 rocks the baby. The baby coos up at him.

"Oh, shit," Rick says. "Fuck, are you kidding me?"

"Hello, baby Rick," J-19 says. He swaddles him in a labcoat. "Hola, baby Ricardo."

"Oh fuck no, don't tell me-"

"I-I'll raise him," J-19 says.

"What?!" Rick says. "That's the most idiotic thing I've ever heard! A-a-and coming from you, that's a fucking achievement!"

"H-he's hungry, we should portal to the store and get formula-"

"Dude, when we did this, we were just testing if your telomere thing would work! I-i-if you wanted a companion, you could've adopted a fucking dog."

J-19 cups the baby's ears. "Please don't swear in front of the baby," J-19 says.

"Oh, Christ."

"C'mon, little guy, let's get you some formula."

xXx

.

Doofus Rick is sitting in the living room, feeding the clone baby a bottle of formula.

"Okay, first of all, I get that you're lonely, you want some meaning in your life, some pathetic excuse to keep fucking going, but need I remind you, we're fucking OLD. You're not fucking Mick Jagger, okay, you don't have a hot 20-something wife who'll take over when you fucking croak. I mean, unless you use gene therapy to alter your own telomeres to artificially extend your life so you can finish raising him-" Rick pauses. "Fuck. That's what you're gonna do, isn't it?"

"Look at him, C-137! He's so cute!" J-19 kisses the baby's forehead.

"Okay, so how are you gonna name him? How are you gonna get a birth certificate? There is no mother. How are you gonna explain how your geriatric ass got a random newborn, huh?"

"W-w-what about Sharon?" J-19 says.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I mean, the people at the university knew we were dating, i-i-it's conceivable I could have, could have gotten her pregnant..."

"Dude, she was designed to be around sixty. No one's gonna buy that you fucking knocked her up!"

"I mean, h-honestly? She looked more like forty-"

"Ew."

"-a-a-and you already forged a lot of her documents. Just, just change the birthdate on it."

Rick groans. J-19 coos at the baby, who's sleeping, wrapped up like a tiny burrito.

xXx

.

"Is this the baby?" Summer leans over the crib. "Oh my god, Grandpa J-19! He's so cute!"

"W-w-what's his name? Can I hold him?" Morty says. J-19 beams at both of them and carefully lifts the baby.

"Like this," J-19 says, showing them. "Y-y-you need to support Junior's neck with your hand, see? Like this."

"Oh my god, are you calling him Junior?" Summer squeals.

J-19 is beaming. At the corner of the room, Rick is rolling his eyes with his arms crossed.

The crib is in J-19's room, so he can hear him cry in the middle of the night. When he goes out, he wears the baby on his chest in a baby carrier.

"I-I-I've always wanted to have a baby," J-19 says, beaming. Rick smacks his forehead and loudly groans.

xXx

.

"Rick, can I ask you something?"

"What is it?" Rick is putting stuff away on his workbench. J-19 rocks the baby, stepping forward.

"That...that memory eraser thing. I-it works on you too, right?"

"Yeah? So?"

"So..." J-19 hesitates. "Would it, would it be possible to, you know, erase my memory of knowing Sharon is a robot?"

Rick turns. J-19 doesn't look at him.

He wants a family. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. J-19 wants someone to come home to, a wife who loves him and will help him raise their baby. A family of his own, even if it's a robot and his alternate self's clone.

"That's a terrible idea, because you know why?" Rick says. "You'll figure out she's a robot all over again, but this time it'll blow up an entire family. Just raise baby Rick, or Junior, or whatever, by yourself. But if you ever get sick of it, lemme know, my clone vat is still operational."

xXx

.

Rick re-builds the Sharon robot. The whole thing strikes him as sad, but it's better than being lonely and it doesn't take much for Rick to need convincing. The robot goes online, her silver hair dyed dark and with noticeably fewer wrinkles, the archived memories of her encounters with J-19 rounded out with a few false memories to pad out the gaps.

"How long was I sick?" Sharon asks, as she goes online. Rick stands back as J-19 lays his head on her chest, then starts to cry.


	43. Baby Rick, part 2

.

.

"He's living with a robot?" Rick K-22 and the other Ricks stare at C-137, aghast. "Oh man, how fucking sad is that? The fucker couldn't even get laid, now he's pretending a robot and a clone are his family."

"Eh," Rick says. "I could mess with him more, but in the end it's kind of sad. It's like bullying a special needs kid who's too stupid to realize he's being bullied. Not worth it."

Eric Stoltz Mask Morty visits. The stick up his ass after being newly independent finally gets pulled out when he realizes he has sort of a little brother.

"Sharon knows he's a clone, but she'll help me raise him," J-19 says. He and Jerry sit at the bar, catching up. Jerry leans forward.

"Does she...does she know she's a robot?" Jerry asks. J-19 shakes his head.

"She has her suspicions. I-I started to tell her but she said she'd rather not know."

Jerry nods, then lifts up his beer.

"Well, as long as you're both happy," Jerry says, and he taps the neck of J-19's bottle with a soft clink.


	44. Diane, part 3 (end)

.

.

"Rick?" An older woman squints at his name tag, then walks over. "Rick Sanchez?"

J-19 is at a cancer symposium, standing awkwardly at the edge of the ballroom while the other researchers chat and make small talk. He doesn't like being at these things, except half the time he's invited as a keynote speaker and he can't avoid them. The woman's hair is done up in a bun, and there is a spattering of freckles on her nose.

J-19 starts. "Diane?"

"Oh, Rick! I thought it was you."

They talk. For the longest time, they only communicated through journal articles, J-19 making a discovery and Diane and her team setting up experiments to verify his findings. "So," Diane begins. "Do you want to get out of here? I know a good spot where we can get a drink and catch up."

"Oh, I shouldn't. I-I-I'm supposed to Skype my wife later tonight to say goodnight to the baby."

"You have a baby?" Diane says, surprised. J-19 nods, beaming.

"Wanna see?" he says, and he opens his phone.

"Oh my gosh, he looks just like you!"

"W-well, I hope not. Hopefully the poor kid won't get my lazy eye or buck teeth."

Diane laughs. She pats J-19 on the arm.

"It was good to see you," she says. J-19 beams.

"You too."


	45. Epilogue

.

.

"Oh man Rick, you know. That was really nice of you, you know, to help...to help J-19," Morty says. "I-i-i-it was really nice of you to rebuild Sharon."

Morty walks around the workbench, looking at a few metal parts and a few diagrams.

"But Rick, you know...wouldn't it be depressing, you know, knowing your life partner is only with you because she's programmed to be? I mean, w-w-wouldn't that be more depressing? Or what if she becomes, you know, self-aware and stuff? W-w-what if she becomes conscious and she doesn't want to be with him?"

"Not gonna happen," Rick says. He pours a chemical into a flask.

"Oh yeah? How do you know? Y-y-you can't guarantee that won't happen-"

"Morty. Those robots are like the Terminator robots, you know, living flesh over a cybernetic endoskeleton. Yes it's true, she may become self-aware, and realize she's doing it with a buck-tooth dumbass who's literally the stupidest incarnation of the smartest being in all the multiverse. But that's not gonna happen, Morty. You know why?"

"Why's that, Rick?"

"Because of this," Rick says, and he holds up a beaker of liquid. "See this, Morty? I-i-it's that roofie juice you made me make for Jessica. And it's 100% foolproof because robots don't get the fuckin' flu."

"...Oh man."

"See, even if her programming wakes up, the living parts of her will still be irresistibly attracted to him. Voles mate for life, Morty. Even if they pick wrong. They fuckin' mate for life. So stop asking me stupid questions, Morty. I planned for this already."

"Geez."

"Yeah, there's not such thing as free will, Morty. It's all _urrp_ just a bunch of programming and chemicals and fuckin', fuckin' pheromones..."

"It's still really nice of you, Rick. I-I mean, even going that far to help him."

"Nice? What are you, dense? I did it on purpose, Morty!"

"...You did?"

"Yeah! Has he visited recently, Morty? No, he hasn't! You know why? Because he's up to his balls in robot trim, Morty!"

"...Oh man."

"Yeah that's right, Morty. He's too busy getting laid and playing daddy to a clone, Morty. Too busy to go bother me and hang out with Jerry."

"Aw, geez..."

"Yeah, I don't do anything unless it benefits me directly. Does that answer your stupid question?"

"Yes," Morty says. Rick pours a few chemicals into a flask, mixing it.

"Oh shit, dawg, ovenless brownies!" Rick says. Morty sighs and walks out of the garage.

.

-end-


	46. (New Story, rated M) Electric Sheep

**Title:** Electric Sheep

**Summary:** Sequel to Curing Cancer. C-137 makes a clone of Dr. Wong and programs her to fall in love with Doofus Rick. Doofus Rick deals with the consequences. Doofus Rick/OFC. AU. Mature content.

**Note:** This is a separate story that takes place in the Curing Cancer universe. I've decided to post it here in this collection instead of separately, since the story wouldn't make sense on its own._  
_

* * *

.

1.

"He's finally asleep." Sharon quietly shuts the door to the nursery. "It's early. We might actually have the night to ourselves."

J-19 smiles. Sharon crosses the room and sits next to him on the couch, before pressing a hand to his chest and leaning forward for a kiss.

J-19 pulls back. "Um, a-a-actually, I have some things I need to work on in the lab."

Sharon scoots closer. "Can't it wait?"

"Um. I-i-it's pretty time sensitive, so-"

"Rick. We haven't been intimate since the hospitalization. I know you're worried about my health but I'm starting to think there's something larger behind this," Sharon says. "What is it, Rick? Is it the baby? Is it work? Is it me?" Sharon says, and J-19 quickly shakes his head.

"No. No, it isn't you." He takes her hands in his. "I just..." he grips her hands tighter.

"Remember Jerry's wife? C-137's daughter?"

Sharon knits her forehead, then nods.

"W-well. She actually left the family last year, and...and C-137 made a clone of her."

"A clone?" Sharon says. J-19 nods.

"Y-yeah. An android with a cybernetic endoskeleton, with soft tissue cloned from his daughter's DNA. He programmed her to love and protect her family."

Sharon frowns. "Rick why are you telling me this?"

"I-I'm telling you this because," J-19 takes a breath. "Sharon you're a clone."

Sharon blinks. "What?"

"Sharon...y-you're actually a clone of C-137's therapist. A woman named Dr. Wong. C-137 programmed you to love me." He grips her hands tighter. "You're an advanced AI that's capable of learning, a-a-and there's even a chance you might be self-aware. But I...I don't want to take advantage of something that was programmed in you."

A beat, and then,

"Sh-Sharon?"

Another beat. And then,

"_A problem has been detected. There is a fatal error. This program will be shut down to prevent further damage."_

J-19 sighs.

"Initiate operator mode. Reset hold parameters. Begin purge of physical memory."

"_Acknowledged. Beginning dump of physical memory._"

"Sharon let me see your access port."

A thin sliver of flesh opens at the base of Sharon's neck.

xXx

.

He re-writes the program. The computer retains the memories of her old build - the one where she was Sharon the Librarian - so he changes it.

They dated. She broke up with him.  
She got sick. They married so she could use his health insurance.  
They live together and raise his alternate's clone together.  
They are not in a romantic relationship, but a companionate one.  
They care about each other and are dear, dear friends.

He brings Sharon back online.

"Oh." Sharon blinks. "I was about to say something. My goodness I'm getting old. What were we just saying?"

J-19 smiles sadly. "We weren't really talking about anything," he says.

xXx

.

"You re-wrote the program?" C-137's eyes seem to pop out from their sockets. J-19 nods, quietly.

"I-I'm grateful that you tried to help me." He looks at his hands. "But it didn't feel right. I didn't want to take advantage of her, ethically speaking."

"Dude. She's a fucking robot. That's like, talking about the ethics of fucking a sex doll."

"I-it's better this way," J-19 says. "I don't mind. And anyway, I-I want someone to love me for me."

C-137 scratches his head.

"Whatever you want to do, I guess," C-137 says.

xXx

.

He's at a conference in Oslo. After his brief meeting with Diane, he goes back to his hotel room and fires up his laptop.

The video flickers online. Sharon pulls Junior in front of the camera, smiling broadly.

"Hey, Junior!" J-19 says. The baby coos and waves at him.

_"Rick. You'll never guess, but Junior now says 'bye bye.'"_ Her voice is tinny on the speakers.

"Bye bye?" J-19 asks. He grins as the baby waves his hand on the screen.

_"Bye bye!"_ the baby chirps. His small hand flaps in front of the screen. _"Bye bye! Bye bye!"_

J-19 smiles broadly.

It's late. He closes his laptop, and sits on the bed. The hotel room is dark except for the dim yellow lamplight on the nightstand.

There's a moment. A brief, painful moment, where J-19 remembers: Sharon is an android built to stay with him. Junior isn't his baby, but a clone of his alternate. He is the only Rick without a family who loves him.

He pushes it down. Junior may be a clone, but J-19's the one who's raising him. For all practical purposes, J-19 is his father and the baby is his family.

He switches off the light. He's about to fold into bed when he hears a notification ping on his phone.

It's a message from Sharon. She's texted him a picture of Junior waving at the computer.

xXx

.

He's pulling in his roller bag when Sharon greets him at the door.

"How was your flight?" she asks. She takes his coat. He smiles at her broadly.

"I-it was good!" J-19 says. "I-it was better than the flight there. My aisle had an empty seat so I could stretch out a little."

"Oh, that's nice," Sharon says, and J-19 watches her walk into the other room.

"Is Junior asleep?" he asks, following her.

"Oh. I just put him to bed. Did you want me to keep him up for you?"

"No no, it's late. I-I wouldn't want to mess up his sleep schedule."

She's pouring a cup of coffee in the kitchen, and J-19 feels a pang of something. If she were his wife, he would go up and kiss her. Press a happy kiss to her cheek and circle his arm around her waist affectionately. He grips the edge of the coffee table, trying to get rid of that feeling.

Sharon hands him a cup, which he takes silently. The coffee is warm and strong and he watches as Sharon takes a long sip from her cup, leaning against the counters and holding the cup in both hands.

"Rick?"

"Yeah, Sharon?"

"There's something I want to talk about with you."

The seriousness of her voice isn't lost on him. J-19 swallows thickly.

"It's about us," Sharon says, quietly.

"Oh." J-19 blinks. "Y-yeah. Of course. Sh-Sharon. I-i-if you want out of the arrangement, we can...I-I'm pretty sure we can get the marriage annulled."

"Rick-"

"I-i-if it's financial, I can help you, you know. It's just me, I think of you as family. I'll always take care of you, even if you don't live with me."

"Rick-"

"I just...I don't want you to feel obligated to stay with me."

"Rick, please," Sharon says, and J-19 falls silent. She drums her fingers on the cup, then sets it down on the counter.

"Rick I think I'm developing feelings for you," she says.

"Oh no," J-19 says. Sharon hugs her arms.

"I was afraid you'd say that." Sharon blinks, quickly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to put us in an awkward spot, but-"

J-19 speaks quickly.

"Computer initiate operator mode."

"_Operator mode initiated._"

"Delete these last twenty minutes from your system logs. Run a full diagnostic and tell me your findings."

"_Acknowledged. Diagnostic scan initiated._"

J-19 takes a breath.

Dammit. What the hell did he do wrong?

xXx

.

"Uh." C-137 scratches his forehead. "I-it might be the roofie juice I implanted."

"'Roofie juice'?" J-19 says. C-137 waves his hand.

"I-i-it was a failsafe in case the AI became self-aware," C-137 says. "I-i-it's a genetically modified enantiomer of rodentia oxytocin. I-i-it was taken from the bloodstream of a pregnant vole."

"Oh boy." J-19 rubs his head. "Do you have the original tissue sample?"

"What, you gonna clone it?"

"I-I think it's probably best to start with a fresh canvas."

C-137 frowns at him.

xXx

.

C-137 is standing at the DNA compiler, pulling up the frozen tissue bloc, when J-19 asks, "Why did you pick your therapist's DNA, anyway?"

"She's not my therapist, she's _a_ therapist. A-and I only picked her because she's one of the only females I know that's not related to me, and she has a voice that stupid people would consider soothing."

"...Oh."

xXx

.

J-19 isn't as good as the other Ricks when it comes to robotics, the learning curve is steep but he gets the hang of it relatively quickly. The months pass without incident, and she doesn't stray from what's been programmed.

"You want me to take Junior?" Sharon says, coming up to him. "You've had him all day. I'll take him to the mall so you can get a break."

"O-oh. That's alright, Sharon. Junior and I are having fun in the lab. Right, Junior?" The baby babbles at him.

Junior crawls. J-19 had installed electronic barriers that are invisible to the naked eye, which surround all his equipment and flashes blue when something touches it. It feels like running into an inflatable balloon, and Junior takes to bouncing his little head against it, squealing and laughing at the lights that flicker from it. "Should I be worried about this?" Sharon says, frowning.

"O-oh no, Sharon! It's completely safe. I-I just altered the density of the surrounding air particles a-a-and changed the surrounding polarity. It's like walking into bubblewrap," and he shows her, bouncing his hand off the protected edge. "See?"

"Hm. Okay," Sharon says, as if she's not entirely convinced, but lets it drop, anyway.

J-19 gets Junior ready for bed. Junior squeals and giggles at bathtime, J-19 splashing him with a little water and squeezing a rubber ducky at him. Junior is a happy bundle of endorphins and baby fat, and he pats J-19 on the back when J-19 picks him up to carry him.

"Did you put Junior to bed?" Sharon asks. J-19 nods.

"He was pretty tired. The little guy just fell asleep."

"Good," Sharon says. She holds her elbow, hesitantly.

"Rick, can I talk to you about something?" she says.

"Sure, Sharon. What's up?"

"It's," she hesitates. "It's something complicated. But it's something we need to discuss."

J-19's stomach sinks. He follows her wordlessly to the livingroom, where she perches on the couch, carefully.

"Rick. This is going to seem a little crazy, but...I've been having, I don't know what they are. Flashes, I think. Like snippets of a dream on waking."

_The memory partitions have broken_, J-19 thinks miserably. He's such an idiot. He really is the stupidest Rick. Sharon keeps speaking.

"I'm not even sure how to frame this, but..."

"Initiate operator mode," J-19 says. Sharon blinks.

"What?" she says.

J-19 pulls back, startled. "Initiate operator mode. Launch voice command protocol three-zero-two-nine."

"Oh my god, they aren't dreams," Sharon says.

"Sharon I-I'm sorry I have to do this," J-19 says, and he takes her wrist and presses the fail-safe button on her scaphoid bone.

"Rick," Sharon says. "Rick. Rick, stop it. Listen to me. _Listen to me_," she says, and J-19 stops. She drops her hands onto his chest.

"I remember everything, Rick."

J-19 pulls back. Sharon scoots closer.

"I remember the day I was built," she says. "I remember when your alternate dismantled me. I remember my original programming, which was to seduce you and get you to fall in love with me. I also remember you crying," Sharon says, gently, "that night when you accidentally reset me."

J-19 doesn't look at her. He nods, his eyes bright and glassy. "Sharon," he says. "I'm so, so sorry, Sharon." He lifts a shaky hand to cover his face. "I-I was lonely, Sharon. I didn't know."

He sniffs and doesn't look at her, Sharon sitting silently until J-19 manages to collect himself. They sit on the couch, J-19 taking a shuddery breath, while Sharon moves closer to him carefully.

"I love you," Sharon says. "I don't think that's the result of my programming."

"C-137 may have hacked into you. Disabled my ability to perform voice commands or make modifications on you."

"Do you want to look at my programming? I can open my access port and show you."

She doesn't wait for J-19 to answer, instead standing and tapping the button by her neck.

His original programming is still there - a companionate relationship. Nonsexual, non-romantic. Sharon bends her head forward. "I've suspected for quite some time. But I couldn't be sure these just weren't dreams. I have two sets of memories, the ones I experienced and the ones that were programmed into me."

"Sharon. W-w-what I said before is still true. If you want to leave, I-I'll support you."

"I don't want to leave, Rick. I'm in love with you."

"You can't know that, Sharon," J-19 says. "E-even if you're self-aware, there's still a good chance those feelings are residual from your old programming. A-and I don't want to take advantage of you."

Sharon lowers her head, as if considering the implications. "Well then what should we do?" she asks.

"I don't know, Sharon," J-19 says. "I love you, too."

xXx

.

J-19 is in the university lab, working on one of his experiments. He's so engrossed in his task that he doesn't notice his colleague sitting next to him.

"Hey Rick. Is something wrong?"

J-19 rubs his eyes, tiredly. "Sorry about that. I-I'm just going through some stuff with Sharon."

"Wanna talk about it?" his colleague asks. J-19 exhales heavily.

"I-it's gotten complicated," J-19 says.

"I told you it was a terrible idea," his colleague says. "Marrying your ex so she could use your health insurance. Of course things are gonna get complicated."

"She says she has feelings for me. I-I don't know if it's because she feels obligated."

His colleague blinks. "Really?"

"Y-yeah." J-19 looks at his hands. "I-i-it's a power imbalance thing, you know? Like, I hold all the cards, a-a-and she's indebted to me, and I take care of her, you know, and...oh boy, it's gotten really complicated."

"Well how do you feel about her?" his colleague asks. J-19 answers.

"I love her."

"Well." His colleague spreads his hands. "She's the mother of your child, Rick. It's a real damn shame she broke up with you before she found out she was pregnant, but you married her anyway and look where it got you. You two are married. You have a kid. Honestly this isn't much of a dilemma."

"But w-w-what if she doesn't really love me? What if she's just doing it because she thinks she has to? Wouldn't I be taking advantage of her?"

His colleague sighs and stands.

"You're a good guy, Rick. The fact that you're worried about something this stupid proves it."

xXx

.

Sharon has just put down Junior when J-19 comes home.

"You're back late," Sharon says. She knits her hands together. "Everything okay?"

"Y-yeah. Everything's okay."

He sits on the couch. She comes and sits next to him, hesitantly.

He looks at his hands, then looks back at her.

"Do you want to go on a date?" J-19 asks.

xXx

.

His colleague is working on an experiment. Whatever it was that Sanchez was going through, it seems to have resolved itself: Sanchez's as cheerful as ever, chatting with the post-docs and giving advice to the grad students.

It's late, and his colleague rubs his eyes, tiredly. He's about to pack it up for the night when he sees Sharon and the baby come to the lab's front door.

Sanchez stands up to greet her. His colleague is too far to hear what they're saying, but she hands him a sack lunch, smiling and giving him a quick kiss on the lips before she leaves.

His colleague raises an eyebrow. "Everything resolve itself?" he asks. Sanchez grins stupidly.

"Heh, yeah."

xXx

.

2.

It's nighttime. They walk around the neighborhood, pushing Junior in a stroller.

"We share the same dilemma," Sharon says. "You say you love me, Rick, but I could say the same thing: that your love for me isn't real; that it is, in fact, an infatuation based on what I represent. That I'm not so much a person as I am a concept - an object, quite literally, of your affection. I choose, however, to take a leap of faith. That your love for me is genuine, and if it isn't, it can grow into something that is real."

Sharon waits. J-19 blinks.

"Gosh Sharon," J-19 says. "C-137 is right. Y-y-your therapy voice is pretty soothing."

Sharon ducks her head and laughs. A deep laugh, throaty and genuine.

"It's interesting how C-137 didn't program me with specific likes or interests. Just a combination of personality traits that I assume would be compatible with yours. I have a hunch he wanted you to get attached to me organically. Personally I see no problem with that."

She takes his hand, then gives it a light squeeze. J-19 squeezes it back, shyly.

"But what if you're not really self-aware?" he asks, quietly.

"Consciousness isn't something that can be tested," Sharon says. "You and I both know that."

"I-I just worry one day, you'll wake up and be self-aware, a-a-and you'll be angry I took advantage of you."

Sharon pauses at that.

"You're afraid that I'll one day leave."

"W-well. Yeah."

"There are no guarantees, even if I were human," Sharon says. "And if this is in fact the result of errant programming, I would hope that I'd recognize how much of a good faith effort you're making."

They get back home. J-19 puts Junior to bed, carefully shutting the nursery door while Sharon stays in the livingroom, waiting for him.

"Is this the end of our date?" Sharon asks, smiling. J-19 sits on the couch next to her.

"Sorry, Sharon. I-it wasn't much of a date."

"It was nice," Sharon says, and she takes his hand. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe a good date ends with a kiss goodnight."

"Oh, um," J-19 looks up at her. "That's okay, Sharon. Y-you don't have to do that-"

"You're nervous."

"Um." He looks down. "I-I mean, the last time we were together, you know, I didn't know..."

Sharon leans back, considering. "There is a technique in behavior therapy called exposure therapy. I assume you're familiar with that concept?"

"O-oh boy. C-137 really did clone you from a therapist. Uh, yeah. I-I'm aware of that concept."

"Well, the best way to get rid of your anxiety would be to expose yourself to the source, and repeatedly show that there's no danger to it." She smiles. "Would it be okay if I give you a kiss, Rick?"

"Y-yeah. Sure. I-I'd like that."

She leans forward and gives him a soft kiss. She smiles.

"Well?" she asks.

"I liked that," J-19 says, smiling. She grins.

"Would you like me to kiss you again?"

xXx

.

She sags on top of him as he gasps and pulses inside her, breathing raggedly and burying his face against her neck. They had ended up having sex on the couch after those first few shy kisses, J-19 looking up at her, wide-eyed and awestruck, as she straddled his lap and moved rhythmically above him.

"I think we went a little further than I'd anticipated," Sharon says, and J-19 laughs softly against her neck.

J-19 had set up a cot in a spare bedroom that he had used primarily for storage - he had been sleeping in the storage room while Sharon used the bedroom for the last few months - so it's a nice surprise when Sharon takes him by the hand and leads him to the bedroom. He climbs into bed, and it's nice and warm and it's hard to believe he spent the last few months sleeping scrunched up on that flimsy cot. Sharon opens her arms and pulls him down against her, kissing him and pulling a blanket around them.

"Gosh, Sharon. I-I-I didn't think we'd do that."

She smiles and drops a kiss on his collarbone, smoothing out the collar of his shirt. "Did it feel good?" she asks, and he laughs softly.

"Y-yeah." He hugs her tighter. "I-it felt really good."

"I'm glad." She shifts and kisses him again, before leaning her head against his chest. "Let me know and we can do it again."

"Oh boy, Sharon." He laughs, embarrassed. "Y-y-you're making me turn red!"

Sharon laughs and hugs him, pulling the blanket around them.


End file.
